Oh So Many Years
by newgirl87
Summary: Modern AU (2008): Elsie Burns and Charles Carson must make the best of their situations. Rating for language, drug reference, and adult themes. My first Modern AU! :)
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This is my first foray into the AU Downton scene, so bear with me. There are two main goals I have while writing this. I'm telling them to you so that I keep the goals as a promise both to myself and to you the reader. They are:_

 _1\. To write long scenes (2,000 words +)_

 _2\. To write as though we're all in the middle of the situation. No exposition or expository parts. If something doesn't make sense please trust that I will explain it as the story progresses._

 _As always, reviews are the lifeblood of a writer's work. I love them, cherish them, and look forward to them every time I post._

 _Thanks for reading!_

* * *

Oh So Many Years

 _All these many years I've loved you  
No one has ever known  
No one has ever known but you alone  
I've kept it locked inside my heart  
And smiled through all my tears  
My darling I have loved you  
Oh so many years_

 _Each night within my lonely room_  
 _I cry dear over you_  
 _And pray to God that things will turn out right_  
 _But when the dawn of day appears_  
 _I brush away my tears_  
 _My darling I have loved you_  
 _Oh so many years_

 _I'll go on pretending that my life is oh so gay_  
 _And happy dear without you by my side_  
 _When all the time my heart is longing_  
 _Just to having you near_  
 _My darling I have loved you_  
 _Oh so many years_

 _Maybe fate will lead us down a path_  
 _Where we will meet again_  
 _And then we'll both be free to love anew_  
 _Then one sweet kiss from your dear lips_  
 _Will banish all my fears_  
 _My darling I have loved you_  
 _Oh so many years_

 _-F. Bailes_

* * *

 _December 2008_

Another pop of champagne cadenced above the laughter. The crowd chatting merrily hid the light ding of the doorbell which Elsie heard only after the third ring.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" She said.

She drifted slightly once in the hallway, her heels giving her the appearance of drunkenness. It took a second to find where Joe had left the key before finally being able to open the door.

"Anna!" Elsie said, pulling the young woman into a gripping hug.

"Mumzi!" Anna cheered, "Happy Birthday!"

"Thank you, my dear, now come in quick before any more of the cold sweeps in. Every year I try not to invite it, but it hasn't got the message yet."

Anna chuckled, "That's what comes from having a birthday in December."

"One day I'll have my party in the south, but until that day I suppose I shall continue to suffer."

Anna laughed and graciously accepted the flute of champagne from Elsie. The party parted for them as they took their usual seats on the sofa.

"I'm guessing Dad's around here somewhere?" Anna said, looking around the lounge.

"He's not actually. Which I'm surprised about. He's usually the first to arrive." Elsie said, finding herself chewing her lip.

"He's been really down about work lately," Anna said, "He wasn't home when I arrived from the train - completely forgot what day it was."

Elsie allowed herself a hum of appreciation. She was saved from answering by Joe, who plopped down beside her and clinked glasses with Anna.

He smiled, "Anna! Good of you to come!"

"Always glad to join in the Burns' festivities. Did you have your annual tree lighting ceremony?" Anna asked, returning the smile.

"We did," he replied, "Charlie gave us a tip about some new wine he found. Felt like it changed the whole evening, didn't it, dear?"

Elsie nodded, having just sipped some champagne, "It did. What was it called again? Grapes of something -"

Joe frowned, "I thought it was the Something of Grapes -"

"Sounds memorable," said Anna.

Elsie chuckled, "We're getting older, dear, we must be allowed some leniency."

Anna smiled, her grin growing wider as she spoke, "Speaking of, Dad says the two of you will be celebrating thirty years! Will there be a party? I'm starting my internship and want to make sure I'm free for any dates -"

Joe put up his hand, laughing quietly to himself, "We haven't even started planning yet, Anna."

"One party at a time, please," agreed Elsie.

"Besides, we'll make sure you're one of the first to know. You travel the farthest nowadays, being at Uni and all." Joe started to stand, "I'm going to find Beryl, she wanted to know if you tried making that pie crust."

As Joe disappeared into the fray of the party, Elsie turned to Anna in surprise, "Pie crust? You're making a pie crust?"

"Shush, now, it's for dad and it's a surprise," Anna whispered, "He's turning fifty-five this summer and I want it to be special, especially after what happened at his fiftieth."

"Well now that wasn't your fault. We should have just catered with Beryl, you can always be guaranteed of good food arriving on time."

"And she's not likely to accidentally poison her guests either." Anna added grimly.

"No, she's not," Elsie offered a gentle grin, "but we must remember that no one was hurt in the end. Everything turned out just fine. And Charlie loved his gift."

"I suppose so."

The two women fell into an easy silence as they watched the party goers mingle. There had been a time where her birthdays were spent in a small cramped flat with just her and Joe. She had enjoyed those days. He would pretend to bake a cake and they would turn on the radio and dance to whatever the top forty station played. And now that she was successful everyone who knew her seemed to want to partake in the festivities. It made one think heavily about the idea of retirement. Success seemed to bring too many extra people into ones life.

"Maybe next year I'll just have the six of us go out to dinner." Elsie mused.

"You and Joe, me and dad?" Anna asked.

Elsie nodded, "And Beryl and Bert. Something simple."

"Ever since I can remember coming to your parties you've always had tons of people." Anna said astonished, "Sometimes I feel like you picked up on your subjects' tastes -"

"Oh heavens, Anna, don't say that." Elsie feigned a shudder, "As much as I love interviewing the upper class - and winning awards for fantastic documentaries on their sordid lives - I hope I never turn into them."

"You don't want to live like the people in _Highclere_?" Anna giggled.

"My goodness, no! No proper health care, backstabbing sisters, even simply having servants - can't you do your own washing?" Elsie congenially slapped Anna's knee, "Can you believe Jacqueline turned down Jack! And that ending with everyone wondering about the war!"

"I know! And Elizabeth being turned down without a proper proposal -"

"Are you talking about _Highclere_ without me?" Beryl's voice questioned out of thin air.

"Beryl! Come! Sit!" Elsie patted the space Joe had vacated, "Did you finally catch up?"

"I threw my knitting at the telly I was so mad!" Beryl huffed as she plopped down on the sofa, "That O'Malley woman really cocked things up!"

"I couldn't believe that." Anna agreed, "I had to have Elsie explain it to me, I just couldn't believe it."

"It was -"

Elsie stalled as an older couple came by to wish her a happy birthday and say they were leaving. Joe, Elsie could see, was making his rounds with the final bottles of champagne.

Anna apologized as Elsie returned to the sofa, "I didn't realize I arrived so late."

"It's not a bother dear, I'm glad you came!" She pulled the younger woman in for a half-hug, "I feel like I never see you any more, and when I do - well, you're quite grown up these days."

They shared a knowing look which Elsie hoped Beryl would ignore for the time being.

As the rest of the guests began to depart, Elsie found herself pulled away from the sofa leaving Anna and Beryl to discuss pie crusts and question the use of butter versus shortening.

Isobel caught the birthday girl just as Joe poured the last drops of champagne. "I wanted to see what your schedule was looking like. Rishi and I were planning a trip to visit his mother in India and he said you still haven't sent out the shooting times yet."

Elsie groaned internally. Isobel and Rishi Clarkson, while two of her oldest friends, also had a habit of disappearing to the East whenever it suited them. Though she applauded their loyalty to family, it made things difficult when your best cameraman and his wife were missing during production.

Smiling externally, Elsie replied, "I'll send those out tomorrow. Lady Violet just got back to me - you know how she is."

"Oh my goodness! Are you finally getting the Crawley family on set?" Isobel asked

"Finally." Elsie nodded, "It only took a quarter of a century but here we are at last."

"Anna will be so pleased! Her best friend on camera!" Isobel nearly clapped her hands in excitement.

Elsie shrugged, "We'll see. I think Lady Violet wants us speaking to the older generation, keep the young ones out of the limelight."

"I'm just glad you finally caught them." Isobel downed the last of her beer, "I'm sure Charlie will be pleased too."

"He will! He's been my biggest ally in this whole process. I'll have to buy him some wine."

"Els," Joe jumped in, "I think Gwen and Anna are leaving."

"Oh! I'll leave you to it," Isobel said, "Happy Birthday, dear."

"Thank you! Give my regards to Rishi, I hope he feels better." Elsie hugged her friend then moved around the hallway to say goodbye to the last of the guests.

"Are you really talking about Spin?" Anna was saying as Elsie joined the younger group.

"Yeah, we have a contact there, we can absolutely get in free!" Gwen bounced in excitement.

Elsie, in a vain attempt to keep her nerves at bay, said, "What is Spin?"

Gwen started, "Oh! It's a new club downtown. The DJs actually play records and they have a whole vodka section -"

"- it's a perfectly fine club where we'll be perfectly safe," Anna added.

"And you drink vodka now?" Elsie asked as calmly as she could.

Anna, bless her, managed not to roll her eyes, "You know I don't drink, Mumzi."

"Good girl." Elsie added, "You will tell Charlie you're not coming straight home won't you?"

"Yes, I'll text him, promise." This time Anna did roll her eyes, albeit in jest.

Nodding to show she accepted the terms of their agreement Elsie hugged each of the girls. She resisted the urge to remind them to make good choices, remembering that Anna was now twenty one and completely trustworthy. Or so she hoped. Anna still felt like the little girl she watched take her first steps, fall down on her bicycle, and now she was clubbing and seriously dating. It was overwhelming if she thought about it for too long. And she couldn't imagine how Charlie felt about it.

As the door closed behind them Elsie found herself wondering where Beryl had got to. Walking back into the lounge she found Joe already picking up the left over plates and glasses. He was so focused. She couldn't help but smile as she watched him, such concentration for such a small task. He was never one to do things in half, her Joe.

"Need any help?" She asked

"No, not on your birthday." He smirked, "Beryl said goodbye. She had to run, Daisy wasn't feeling too well."

Swaying her hips more than usual - and concluding she might have had a little too much to drink - she wandered to her husband and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, leaning into him.

"Poor girl," she continued, "She's lucky to have Beryl though."

Joe hummed a response and picked up another glass.

"Leave it, dear," Elsie said pulling the glass from his hand, "come, let's go upstairs."

"But then we'll have to take care of it in the morning. And since it won't be your birthday anymore, you'll have to help."

She smiled into his neck, then kissed his cheek, "I don't mind."

When he turned to face her, she caught his lips with hers. Sighing at the light touch. He pulled away much too quickly.

"Let me finish, Els, I'll meet you up there in twenty." He said, pulling away as he crouched down to retrieve a fallen olive.

The stirring in the pit of her stomach reminded her of the question she had wanted to ask. But she'd been putting it off for weeks now, assuming that, like always, he would simply tell her when he was ready.

But of course, the combination of alcohol and the heady experience of having a party forced the words out of her mouth, "Joe, are you feeling alright?"

He sprung up in surprise. Which didn't shock her. He was looking at her quizzically, "You never..."

"I know, I know." She said, holding a hand to her forehead, "But you most often just say whatever is on your mind, I don't have to ask."

She stalled as her own words hit her. "Unless, that's what the problem is."

He shook his head, "No, no."

He sighed. Then hunched his shoulders as he looked to the ground and scratched the back of his head. Ten stone dropped into the pit of her stomach. She had only seen him in such anxiety twice before: once when he said he wasn't sure he was ready for marriage, and then many years later when he said he didn't want to have children.

"I didn't want to do this today." He said.

She almost didn't hear him, he spoke so quietly. Feeling still and yet dizzy she asked, "Didn't want to do what?"

He shook his head, "It's silly, really, because I'm relieved. I shouldn't be, but I am."

Forcing the dizziness out of the way, her anger started to catch up to her, "Relieved about what? Joe?"

"I didn't want to do this today." He added, "It's your birthday and I thought it would be best to discuss this - to tell you - whatever - because I didn't want to do this today I thought it'd be better after the new year, after Beryl's party -"

"Joe, just say it."

"I think we should get a divorce."

She heard him say it, the sound of his voice. But it also sounded like she had said it. Like her voice had whispered along with it. She understood why. She was watching it now. And the sounds and the scene were not together. She watched herself, her rigid body staring, asking aloud the words he had spoken.

"You think we should get a -"

Her own words came out jumbled. The party leftovers surrounded them, mocked them. Party leftovers remained happy despite the dark hole in the room. The angle changed and for a moment she thought she had fallen into the fireplace.

"I'm in love." He admitted.

She watched herself lean, almost falling over. Then everything came whirring together as a deep seated anger brought her mind and body into cooperation.

"Who?" She demanded.

He shook his head, "You don't know her."

"What's her name?"

He sighed, "Marla."

"Mar -" She couldn't finish. A dawning bubble of realization was bursting within. She replayed a memory from two years ago. Marla. That Marla. Marla who laughed Marla. Marla who told jokes. Stupid Jokes. Stupid Marla. "She sold us our car."

Almost imperceptibly Joe nodded.

"I think I fucking know the woman who sold us our car, Joe!"

"You don't know her know her!" He said, "I handled that whole transaction -"

"I can see you handled it oh so well didn't you!" She couldn't fathom his anger. What the hell did he have to be angry about? "And don't you dare - don't you dare raise your voice - you did this. You! Did this."

"You know what's funny?" Joe started, "Is that you couldn't stand her. And I kept thinking how similar this was to you and Charlie. How I didn't understand how you could be friends with a man who was too blind to know his wife was cheating on him!"

"What does that have to do with -"

"I helped her!" Joe continued, "I helped her. She was going through a divorce and she needed someone to talk to. Like you - you ran off to console poor old Charlie as his wife did more and more drugs -"

"No, Joe, I told you about Charlie. I told you every time I went to see him." She threw her hands up, "And you supported me! You told me to help 'the old boy' out! You never said a thing about Marla - and by the way _I never slept with Charlie!"_

"I never slept with Marla!"

Silence. Cold firm silence stifled the room. They stood facing each other, further apart than they had ever stood from one another. Silence felt like defeat. Elsie felt her shoulders slump, she felt her anger dissipate into a cold sweat.

"Explain." She said.

It took him a full minute to find the words. "She just needed someone to talk to. I didn't mean for anything to happen. But then, we kept talking, and we kept talking, and it was fun, and interesting, and I - Elsie, we married before either of us ever really dated. We never knew what's out there, and I kept thinking how implausible it seemed to find true love in the same city - let alone the same neighborhood. And maybe I loved you, I thought that I loved you. But I'm finding love here, now, with Marla."

She wasn't going to cry in front of him. Instead, she marched to the staircase. She could feel him following her. She tried desperately not to listen to his meager explanations.

"Elsie, I thought I was doing good. Like we thought you were doing good all those years ago with Charlie and Alice. You helped them! I never put my neck out there for someone other than you, and I thought I was doing a good deed, being kind to a stranger. But then it fell out of control and - where are you going?"

She had pulled out her little red suitcase and started throwing whatever she could reach into it.

"Els, listen, it's late okay, I'll find a hotel. This is my mess, I know. I wanted to get a divorce before Marla and I made anything official. I wanted that for you -"

She laughed. And laughed. It was hard to stop once she started, like hyperventilating. Her suitcase full - of what she didn't know - she marched back down the stairs.

"Elsie, please, don't go!" Joe pleaded, "I'll go. I don't want you getting hurt cause -"

She rounded on him, "You want a divorce. So I'm leaving. That's what you want. Here it is. You get what you want. Lucky you."

Throwing open the door she stepped into the crisp air. No jacket, didn't matter, she was only walking a few blocks. Joe followed her to the end of the driveway and then watched her as she walked away. When she reached the point where she knew he couldn't see her she started a run. The cold air hit her lungs, burned her throat. It kept her mind real. Her only worry now was if Charlie would be home when she knocked on his door.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Whoa! Thank you so much for all your reviews! I'm excited so many of you are willing to take this journey - however strange and mysterious it might at first seem. Special shout out to Chelsie Soul of the Abbey for her blog about this on tumblr! So cool! I've been linked you guys!_

 _I'm not sure if this chapter will answer any questions or solve anything, but hopefully it begins to lighten the path a little._

 _Goal Check:_

 _1\. 2000 words + (Check, came in around 2,027)_

 _2\. No exposition (Check, everything fits - but maybe I should leave you to tell me this one)_

 _Please note: I have a writing schedule, but not a posting schedule. I'm ahead on my writing schedule. Don't expect these to come so soon after one another regularly. ;)_

 _Reminder: This does take place at the end of 2008._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

"Elsie?"

Charlie's face peaked around the edge of the door. The light behind him framed his dark eyes in shadow.

She wondered how she looked to him. The cold having whipped her hair into an unfriendly mane, she stood on his front porch with tear tracks across her face. And his name, she couldn't even say his name.

"What are you -" But as he opened the door fully, his eyes grew wide, "Oh good Lord. Your birthday!"

He stepped forward, arms open. She stepped into them, slamming her face into his shirt. He rubbed her back, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Muttering a small 'it's okay' into his chest, she found herself grateful for the familiarity of his hug - the tight squeeze that was just enough to know he cared. He stepped back looking sheepish.

"I can't believe - Elsie," He kept going, "I'm terribly sorry. I - here -"

Letting her inside, he walked towards his cellar door. "I have something for you. Good God, I'm such a - Wait, just wait there."

Giving a nod to show she understood, she parked her little red suitcase next to the umbrella stand and took in his beautiful foyer. A small bubble of laughter broke its way through her. She remembered his insistence on building a cellar, for his wine of course. That project that was only supposed to take one month turned into one year.

Then she shook her head and tried to stop the tears building in her eyes.

His heavy footsteps informed her of his reappearance. In his hand lay a dusty bottle of wine. He ran into the kitchen to clean it off. She followed him, not sure being alone was helpful - and equally unsure if being around people was such a good idea.

"Here," he said quietly, holding the bottle out to her.

She took it gently and offered a half-hearted smile. It was a Cabernet from, she felt her jaw drop, 1983.

"Charlie," she said - croaked, more like, "This is twenty five years old!"

He nodded, smoothing out his shirt, "Yes," then added as an afterthought, "January 1983."

She looked at him quizzically, "What happened in January 1983?"

"I -" he shifted, the tips of his ears turning red, "I met you."

The urge to wrap her arms around him was only tempered by her desire not to cry again. She swallowed the lump in her throat, "I remember that."

"The first of January, 1983. Lord Merton kept me around for five hours while you and your crew interviewed him." He spoke, almost as if reciting a historical fact, "Your first subject, and my longest- "

Tears pooled in his eyes. She stared, open mouthed, as the big bear of a man began weeping in front of her.

"Your longest client," she said, then threw out the first thing she could think of as to why he might possibly be falling apart, "yes, yes, I remember. Charlie, I'm so sorry I forgot."

But he shook his head, "They let me go."

"They - what?"

She stalled. In any other circumstance she would have pulled him into a tight embrace. But she simply couldn't fathom what was going on. Instead, she starred at him. Some kind part of her brought her hand up and began patting his arm. When she had arrived on his front porch she had been absolutely certain that their roles would be reversed.

Shouldn't she be the one weeping?

At the same time, her mind whirred - she could already see a solution -being a producer made one an instinctive problem solver. She just wasn't sure it was wise to bring it up yet.

"Oh, Elsie," he sniffled, "I'm sorry. I -"

"This is why you've been all out of sorts lately," she said, finally pulling him into a light hug. His pain made her own seem to shift. It was easier to focus on his problems than on hers.

When she released him, he said, "I told you. I told you six months ago - the bloody Americans have us falling into their recession - I told - bloody Americans."

"I know, they ruin everything," she said soothingly, "But, my word, I can't believe they let you go."

"I'm too expensive," he said, his booming voice nearly shouting. He wiped his tears and slowly settled his breath, "I get it - I do. I studied economics- I'm a bloody accountant - this is what I've counseled firms to do! They call it 'forced retirement'. But, Elsie, what about Anna? What do I do about Anna?"

"She's a grown -"

"She's still at University. And that internship isn't paid." He sighed, "I just bought her a car. I thought how much easier it would be for her to run back and forth between her internship and her studies and now -"

"You've saved though, haven't you -"

"-of course. Of course. But that money is meant to last at least twenty years, not forty years! And Anna would have been done with everything by then, out on her own."

He sighed, deflated, and began rubbing his temples. Elsie looked at him and then down at the bottle of wine in her hands.

"I think," she said, "that we leave it be for now, and drink this instead."

As her words began to process, he looked up at her slowly. His face held a calculated look as he tried to keep his unease from her. (And utterly failed at it). He said, "You want to... _drink_ that?"

She pursed her lips in an effort not to smirk, "Yes. Is there some reason we should not?"

"No, no," he said, trying to maintain his cool, "It's yours. You can do with it as you please."

"Well then. I think we'll need some glasses." She said, not feeling nearly as confident as she sounded; though his obsession with his wine collection never ceased to amuse her. None of it was ever for drinking as far as she could tell.

She stood in the living room waiting for him to follow her, but turned when he asked, "Els? What's that?"

He was looking at her little red suitcase.

She felt herself sway slightly, unintentionally. The lump in her throat returned. She had a feeling it had now taken up residence there. They stood there staring at one another as she fought against her body. She didn't want to cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of anybody.

Her body won. The tears were back - and this time one escaped.

As it drifted across her cheek, she said, "I - I suppose I've been let go too. In a way."

It was his turn to look quizzical.

"Joe." She cleared her throat, "Joe wants a divorce."

He was at her side instantly but she held up her hand forcing him to stop, to keep his hugs to himself, "No, not now. I can't - not now."

She bit her lip as another tear escaped, this time falling on the side of her mouth. She could taste the saltiness and it only served to force two more to drop.

His hand was on her shoulder though, squeezing gently, "Elsie -"

"Please. Leave it for now." She said. She couldn't look at him. Instead, for a moment she closed her eyes. Shaking her head, she tried desperately to keep any more of her sorrow to herself.

She felt him pull the wine bottle from her hands. And from the clink of the glasses she knew he had set everything on the mantle.

That deep voice of his still had the power to reverberate through her even as he whispered, "It's late."

She nodded, "Did Anna text you? She was going to some club -"

"She did."

His hand felt warm on her arm as he led her to the stairs, "I'll fetch some sheets. The small bedroom on the left has a tub -"

"I know." She attempted a watery chuckle, "I've been here before."

Grabbing her suitcase, he led her towards her room. He paused in the middle of the staircase, hesitating. When he finally faced her, he appeared withered with worry, "I don't want to tell Anna, yet, about my situation."

Elsie nodded, and then felt the wind knock out of her, "Oh God. Anna. What do _I_ tell, Anna?"

Fiddling with the cuff of his shirt, his only offer was a deep sigh and shake of his head.

"I don't -" She took a shuddering breath, "I don't see how I could keep it from her, staying here and everything."

She caught his eyes, "You don't mind, do you?"

"No," He smiled, for the first time since she arrived, "I don't mind."

With that settled they made their way to the top of the stairs. Charles took a quick detour on the second landing to grab a set of sheets. Elsie found the small bedroom on the left. As she walked in, a sense of finality dropped upon her shoulders. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

If he hadn't been right behind her with the sheets, she would have fallen face forward into the bed and let herself weep. Instead, she waited awkwardly by the door as he made up the bed. He refused her help, making the corners perfectly crisp and even. When he finished he stood by the side of the bed, looking lonely and tired.

"Is there anything else you need?" He asked.

She shook her head.

In her mind she responded with _My husband_ , but she swiftly pushed that thought away. As soon as she did, another thought, a far more real and powerful thought burst through her heart. What she really needed was her mother.

Charlie set her little red suitcase in front of the dresser, a silent insistence that she stay as long as she want.

He said good night as he passed her. She couldn't find the words, so merely nodded her response.

"Oh," he said, just before she closed the door, "You look beautiful, by the way."

She swallowed the resident lump in her throat and managed a shaky, "Thank you."

He nodded and headed back down the stairs. She watched him disappear and then closed the door.

Now that she was alone she found her tears had dried up. She couldn't cry. Even if she wanted to.

On top of which the dress she wore felt like a mockery. She had bought it specifically for her party. Beryl had insisted upon it. And now she knew she would never wear it again. A part of her wanted to tear it off her body, destroy it in effigy of her marriage. Another part of her knew she was too empty for anything.

She pulled off her dress, letting it pool at her feet. It took another minute before she managed to move towards her suitcase. She thanked her unconscious self for somehow managing to place her nighty right on top.

As she climbed into bed her mind drifted back to her mother. Her Ma. Her dear old Ma. She tried to shift the blankets to help imagine that it was her mother wrapping her small arms around her. Her mother had been a head shorter than her, but still her hugs were legendary. Her mother gave the best hugs. But then again, she supposed, all mother's gave the best hugs to their daughters.

Why was it that you needed your mother more when she was no longer there? Mother's shouldn't die, Elsie mused. A world full of mothers, that would be a peaceful world. A much happier world.

She wondered what her mother would say about Joe.

Rolling over, she shoved the thought away. Many years ago, in an effort to not let her work keep her awake at night, she had created a mantra: Subjects Don't Belong In My Bed. Clutching her pillow tightly she thought, and now Joe Doesn't Belong in My Bed.

* * *

 _Leave a review - if you're so inclined. :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thank you for all your reviews! They're like a wonderful pulse of happiness every time I read them :) And to those of you out there just reading, I love you guys too - thanks for sticking around! (Special thank you to Chelsie Soul of the Abbey for another shout out on the tumblr! Too cool!)_

 _Goal Check:_

 _1\. 2000+ words (oh yeah, came in at a nice 2,576)_

 _2\. No exposition (I'm definitely leaving this one to you guys. To the guest who posted about being nitpicking regarding memories: I completely agree, it's a hard line to say for certain on. I'm following a rule for those, but I'm also constantly questioning if the rule works or not, so feel free to be nitpicky ;) )_

 _NOTE: I will be traveling this weekend and thus my writing schedule will be on pause, the next update will be a little longer than this last one, but afterwards things should settle into something of a routine :) sorry about that._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

Though the young woman's hand lay warm on her arm, Elsie couldn't see Anna. Her eyes were too puffy. Blinking was a chore. She attempted a smile, not wanting Anna to worry.

"I didn't want to wake you," Anna said, "But Dad wanted you to know breakfast is almost ready."

Elsie nodded. As her eyelids strained against opening, she found herself looking at fog. A dark light swept through the window. The fog itself crept into the sinew of her bones. She shivered.

"You can sleep longer if you like," Anna continued, rubbing her arm soothingly, "We'll keep something warm for you."

Elsie shook her head, "No, no-"

That voice, it didn't sound like her voice. It sounded mushy and crackly with sleep and sorrow. Taking a deep breath she rolled over, finally making out Anna's silhouette.

Anna nudged her arm, "Shove over."

Taking her pillow, and realizing how wet it was - she must have cried in her sleep - she left Anna the bottom one as she shifted across the bed. Assuming they were going to have one of their Mumzi and Anna whisper conversations, she was surprised when Anna pulled her over. She found her face nestled in the younger woman's shoulder. Wrapped in Anna's arms, she laughed at the audacity of it all.

Anna was silent for a moment. The tree out back creaked against the wind. The fog felt more inside than out.

"I kept thinking about when you did this for me," Anna said, "When Bryan broke up with me."

Elsie smiled. That night etched itself across her memory. Anna had come to her shaking with grief. They talked it over all night and ended up with Elsie holding Anna until the girl had fallen asleep.

"The thing I never told you about that," Elsie said, "was how relieved I was."

"I thought you liked Bryan."

"Oh, I liked him. But he wasn't good enough for you. You were much too clever for him."

She knew Anna smiled at that. But then the girl tensed, saying, "I hope you think John's good enough."

Elsie pulled away, settling back on her pillow so she could meet Anna's eyes. "You don't need permission from me, dear. But from what you've told me, he sounds like the perfect gentleman."

"He is. I only hope dad thinks so too."

Elsie chose to ignore that, reasoning they had engaged in one too many arguments about it. Instead she said, "Are you nervous about New Years?"

Anna giggled, "A little."

Elsie smiled as a blush crept across Anna's cheeks.

"I know it's supposed to hurt the first time," Anna said, "but I don't think I'm worried."

"You have had some experience. That will help."

This time Anna turned bright red, "I can't believe I told you about that."

Elsie chuckled, "I'm glad you did."

Taking one of Anna's hands in her own, she added, "And I'm glad your first time will be with someone you love."

Anna squeezed her fingers, "Me too."

The knock on the door startled them both. Charlie's voice bounced through the door, "Is everything alright up here?"

"Yes." said Elsie, surprising herself with how full her voice sounded.

The door opened a crack. Charlie asked, "Are you decent? Can I come in?"

"No, I'm completely naked even with your daughter in the room," Elsie rolled her eyes, "Yes, you can come in."

As the door opened, Charlie revealed himself to be wearing his favorite trousers, blue shirt, and, Elsie suppressed a laugh, an apron that said 'I cook with Wine, Sometimes I even Add it to the Food'. He also still wore an oven mitt on his left hand.

He smiled at them, "You two look cozy."

"We are," said Anna, snuggling further under the covers.

He sat on the foot of the bed, folding his hands in his lap, the oven mitt hand resting on top. Elsie couldn't imagine him looking more domestic.

"The eggs are getting cold," he said.

Anna and Elsie shared a look.

"What?" He asked, indignant, "I will not apologize for wanting my food to be hot."

"There's a difference between scalding and hot," said Anna.

"Not in my dictionary," he deadpanned.

Elsie chuckled, "Is that what we're having? Eggs?"

"And baked beans on toast," he said, "but that's getting cold too."

"Then I guess we had better go down," Elsie said.

"Good," said Charlie, as he stood from the bed, "The table is all set. I await your arrival."

And with a flourish to his walk, he headed back down to the kitchen.

The two women shook their heads at him, synchronized in their affection for his dramatics.

Anna sighed and reluctantly slipped out of bed. Elsie followed, yawning and stretching. Her bones creaked louder than the tree out back. She padded her way to her little red suitcase, but paused as she realized Anna stood hesitating at the doorway.

Without prompting, Anna asked, "You are going to be alright, aren't you?"

She couldn't answer truthfully. Her belief that Anna needed her to be strong outweighed any honest inklings. "Of course I will."

The girl nodded, "Dad just said that Joe wants... but he didn't explain what happened - why -"

"No," Elsie shook her head, turning back to her suitcase, "I didn't say."

Anna nodded again, not having any words. They shared a sad smile before Anna too disappeared downstairs.

Elsie sighed. Her breath left her body far too quickly, leaving her feeling faint. She cringed at that, weren't sighs supposed to help ease the breath, not take it out of you? But she supposed her feeling faint had little to do with the sigh. Pushing the thought away, she couldn't think about it now. Not now, and maybe not ever.

As she rummaged through her haphazard of a suitcase, she pulled out a pair of jeans and was pleased to find her favorite jumper. She found a bra tucked inside a pair of pantyhose and decided she didn't want to know how that happened. However as she continued to forage through her clothes she found her blood rushing through her veins. Her heart sped up as realization dawned: she hadn't packed any underwear. She didn't have her knickers.

She sat back on the carpeted floor in complete shock.

How had she managed to not pack any underwear? Of course at the time of packing she had been blind to all her actions. She barely knew what she had said let alone what she had done.

It was as though life just wanted to one up her: first Joe, then Charlie and his job, and now no knickers. Life was having a good laugh, she was sure of it.

Sticking to her stubborn roots she forced herself to laugh. If that was the way it was going to be, then fine, she would just have to go commando; play the soldier, like Anna's beau.

Normally she started from the bottom up when she got dressed. This time she put her jeans on last. The rough fabric felt strange on her skin, and there was an odd looseness without the added fabric. She wondered if this was good or bad for her vagina, and decided that either way it would be best to go buy some underwear during the day. Perhaps Anna would want to come with. A good shopping spree with her favorite girl would be a welcome distraction.

Feeling half-way decent enough for breakfast, Elsie grabbed her phone and made her way out the door. She habitually checked her text messages. Opening the screen she stopped so quickly she nearly fell down the stairs.

There were twenty-one messages from Joe.

The last one, the only one she could read without opening them all, said _Please_.

Her body screamed to open the rest, to find out what he needed, to help him, to worry about him, to hate him - but she was paralyzed. Almost instinctively her finger found the button on the top of the phone and turned it off. That would save her from wondering. She felt a tiny piece of relief shoot through her as the screen went black.

As she made her way down the stairs she recognized that sooner or later she would have to turn her phone back on and deal with everything. Deal with everything - but not now. Right now was breakfast.

Anna and Charlie sat waiting for her, munching some fruit from a bowl on the table. The table itself was set with more than the needed cutlery. Elsie smiled at the familiarity of a Carson breakfast. The flowers stood in full bloom on the middle of the table. There were even a few candles lit on the mantle. And there, next to the candles, sat her wine bottle.

She joined the two, saying, "I never thanked you for my wine last night."

"You're very welcome," said Charlie, as he tucked into his plate, "I hope that you can forgive an old fool for forgetting your birthday."

"Oh, it's quite alright, and -" _quite understandable_ , but she couldn't say that, not since Anna wasn't to know. Dear God, she hate this already. She smiled pleasantly, "- and you are forgiven."

"Just don't let it happen again," Anna quipped.

Charlie chuckled at his daughter, shooting her a feigned sheepish grin.

They ate in relative silence. Charlie commented that the food must be good if everyone was so quiet. Elsie and Anna agreed.

As they finished, drinking their coffee and tea respectively, Charlie said, "Before you came down, Anna and I were discussing going out for breakfast tomorrow, seeing as it will be her last day with us before heading down to London for New Years."

Elsie stalled at that. She had grown up poor, and so knew what one must do in order to tighten the belt whenever a monetary emergency arose. Charlie, though, Charlie had never been poor. And the very thought that he wanted to buy breakfast instead of make it made Elsie worry deeply about how he was going to handle his crisis.

Immediately, a solution reeled into her mind, "That's a lovely idea, let it be my treat though. I know the perfect place -"

"No, absolutely -," Charlie said.

"Don't argue with me, Charlie," She said, "I know the owner and he'll get us the best table and throw in some free booze, especially if I pay. Besides, you have both been very kind to me during this - whatever this is - and I want to return some of the kindness."

"Elsie," Charlie started, he was playing with his unused cutlery, trying to make them even. He continued, "Elsie, you were there for me during...And with everything you have helped me with, opening my home to you is the very least I can do."

"So you know exactly how I'm feeling, wanting to repay a little kindness," She countered, trying not to smirk.

He sighed and looked at Anna, who shrugged, knowing better than to get between the two of them during a spat. His gaze returned to her and he said, "What is this place called?"

" _La Ronde._ "

Charlie pouted, "Sounds french."

"Because it is," said Anna. She cast an exasperated look towards Elsie _,_ who bit her lip in an effort not to laugh.

Anna continued, "I've heard of it before. It's supposed to be impossible to get in. Like, a three month wait just to get a reservation."

"That's true, but like I said, I know the owner, and his mother. But I'd like to call them soon, if that is where we would all like to go," Elsie looked at Charlie.

He gave a grunt of disapproval, "Very well, if we must, we must."

"Such a wholehearted declaration." Anna said.

Elsie patted Anna's arm, "It's a victory, dear. Leave him be."

"You do know I'm right here?" Charlie said, eyebrows raised. That earned him two adoring smiles.

Anna began clearing the plates, saying, "Well, now that we know what we're doing tomorrow, what are the plans for today?"

"Oh! I'm glad you asked," Elsie said, then blushed, not wanting to explain too much of her situation in front of Charlie, "I seem to have forgotten to pack a few necessary items, and thought perhaps you and I could go shopping."

"I'd love to!" said Anna, "I've been needing a new outfit for my internship. Annnd, one of my papers was published in a journal so -."

"It was!?" Charlie said.

"Anna! That's wonderful, dear!" Elsie said. She refrained from pulling the girl in for a hug, Anna was carrying too many dishes for that.

"I'm impressed," said Charlie, "what journal?"

"The British Society Annual Business Journal," said Anna, "but what I was saying is they paid me - and if I spend the money on something I need then I can say that I'm supporting myself through my business!"

Elsie laughed, "Like when I finally paid the electric bill with money from my first documentary."

"Exactly," Anna beamed.

"That's my girl," said Charlie, "I'm proud of you, my darling."

Anna turned slightly red and headed into the kitchen piled with plates. Elsie smiled, Anna had never been one to enjoy the limelight. A fact that made her something of a black sheep given Alice - and Charlie's, she sniggered - stage history.

Elsie turned to Charlie to comment on that, only to find him with a sad smile and faraway look.

"I remember when she wrote her first story - about the bunny that scraped it's knee." Charlie said, "And now she's a published academic."

"And she's only an undergrad."

Elsie watched as Charlie's face morphed from sentimental to worry. His brow furrowed together as if he was putting two and two together.

"Are you thinking about your...situation?" she asked, hoping Anna couldn't hear them.

Charlie shook his head, saying quietly, "No, I - Well, I've run the numbers a million times by now. I'll be alright until the end of the January. And then - and then things will have to change."

"Will you look for another job?"

"First thing as soon as Anna leaves. I don't want her wondering."

Elsie shook her head, "I think you should tell her."

"Not yet."

Recognizing defeat, Elsie bit her lip to keep from arguing. Worry still graced his features and she started to wonder if his worry had less to do with his monetary problems, and more to do with her...problem.

She didn't like that. She didn't like him worrying; especially about her.

Excusing herself she headed to her room to rummage through her suitcase. She wanted to make doubly sure there wasn't anything else she was missing. Her mind buzzed with everything that had happened in the last twelve hours. As much as she tried to brush away her thoughts, a nagging tingling was taking root in her heart. She felt heavy. In spite of it all, though, she was determined to have fun shopping with Anna.

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 _Reviews are fun too!_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thank you! Thank you! For all your reviews! I love when people speculate and wonder and ask questions. I'm terrible at responding, which I apologize for, but please know that every review is helpful and meaningful, especially given that this story is somewhat a writing experiment. So ask away!_

 _Goal Check:_

 _1\. 2,000 words + (oh yeah, 3,166!)_

 _2\. No exposition (really, let me know, or if you're like "I NEED TO KNOW MORE RIGHT NOW" that's good to know too :) And this particular one was a little tricky, so please do call me out on anything.)  
_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

"Mary was saying you got the green light from Lady Violet," said Anna

They stood at the sales rack. Elsie observed as the girl rapidly flew through different tops, stopping only to check the ones she liked, and occasionally throwing one over her arm. Elsie felt like a turtle just watching her.

"Yes," Elsie replied, a bit too late, "She called on Tuesday. We're being given partial access to Downton and a not quite as gracious timeline of six months."

Anna's eyes went wide, "That's not enough time."

"No, but I know that once we start I'll get my hooks in and make sure they don't want to stop, no matter where we are in six months."

Elsie sighed feeling guilty. The last thing she wanted to do was turn her phone back on, but she couldn't afford to miss a call from Lady Violet. Stepping away from Anna, who quite clearly didn't need her Mumzi looking over her shoulder, she pulled out her phone and pressed the little button on the top. A sense of dread started seeping into her veins. She was saved by Anna.

"Mumzi," Anna said, "What do you think of this one?"

Quickly returning to Anna, and throwing her phone in her purse, Elsie spied the girl holding a flowing red dress that stopped right at mid thigh, "I suppose it's not too short?"

"It's the fashion these days!" Anna laughed.

Elsie bit her lip. It wasn't that she was unfashionable, and she hated feeling unfashionable, she just wondered what Charlie would say if he saw Anna in that surrounded by the London nightlife.

"Try it on, then we'll see how is lays." Elsie said.

Anna added it to the pile on her arm.

"You know," Elsie continued, looking through a few racks of her own, "I think technically it should be Mum _sie_ and not Mum _zi_."

Anna crinkled her nose, "No, I don't like it."

Elsie laughed, "That's what I thought. Keeping with traditions, just like your father."

"Oh dear, I hope I'm not that bad."

They giggled together.

As they made their way through the various racks of tops and bottoms and jeans and dresses, Elsie looked through the stack of underwear she was holding. Anna had insisted she buy at least one sexy pair. Although Elsie couldn't remember a time where she felt less sexy.

"Oh!" Anna said, breaking through her thoughts, "Look at this one!"

Elsie nodded, "That would look good on you."

"No, I mean for you."

Elsie's eyes went wide. It was a tight fitted dress in midnight blue. It was just the kind of thing Beryl would pick out and Elsie would say no to.

"Try it on," Anna insisted, tossing the garment in Elsie's arms.

"I'm not sure."

"Just try it on."

Biting her lip, she felt the material in her hand. It was sexy. Too sexy. She searched for a distraction, anything to keep from trying it on, "Who's coming on your New Years trip again?"

"I _told_ you," said Anna, who had already moved on to looking at slacks for her internship.

"Yes, but I'm old and forgetful."

"You're not old."

Elsie rolled her eyes, "Who's coming?"

"Mary and Mathew, Gwen, Madge, John, and then some of Mary's friends I don't know." Anna rattled off.

Elsie nodded, trying to remember if she ever met Mathew, and trying to quell the urge to interrogate Anna about Mary's so-called friends.

"Alright," Anna said, "I'm going to try these on. You try that on and we'll share what we think."

"Oh, Anna, I'm not sure I need to try this on."

Anna pushed her towards the changing room, "Yes, you do, you'll look fabulous in it. Go on, 'then we'll see how it lays'.

As Anna disappeared to try on her pile of clothes, Elsie went into her own changing booth. She glanced at the mirror once and knew she wasn't going to try on anything. The mirror was unfriendly. Really, her breasts sagged much father these days than she remembered, and her bottom - she turned in the mirror, her bottom was surprisingly round, and not in a good way. She could see now why Joe might have felt he needed a change in his woman. Good god, was that why he had -

"Come out, come out wherever you are!" Anna cried.

Elsie exited the booth, still wearing her jumper and jeans, lying, "I tried it on, it fits - there's no need to share it with the public yet."

"It's just me, Mumzi."

"Yes, well, anyone might walk in -"

"Then I'll come in with you," Anna said.

"No, no," said Elsie, making her way back towards the main shop, "I'll buy it and wear it later. Come, did everything fit?"

Anna shook her head, "This one isn't right around the shoulders, and this one will need hemming."

The girl held the red dress and a pair of beige slacks. Relieved about the red dress, Elsie pointed to the slacks, "I can hem those if you like."

"Would you?"

"Yes," Elsie smirked, "And I'll show you how."

Standing in line to pay for their purchases, Anna listened while Elsie explained her big plan for the Downton Documentary. A familiar floating feeling took over her as she talked about her latest project. In the back of her mind she recognized that when she was working she didn't think about Joe. She didn't think about anything.

"Did you find everything alright, dears?" asked the sales lady.

Anna and Elsie nodded.

"It's so nice," continued the lady, "to see a mum and daughter out shopping. I wish my daughter did the same!"

Swallowing sharply, Elsie bit back any explanation. For years now, she had learned to hold her tongue. Each time someone mistook Anna for her daughter Elsie found herself instantly transported to when Anna was seven and Elsie had explained to a woman _Oh, she's not my daughter, I simply, er, care for her._ The look of hurt upon Anna's face that day made sure that Elsie never again explained their situation.

Even if Elsie often thought of Anna as her daughter, which she did, sometimes, she never said it aloud, and would certainly not expect Anna to ignore her real mother. Even if Alice was dead.

Elsie sighed, passing her credit card to the sales lady. Anna as her daughter - it was as close as she ever got to having children. She glanced at Anna. The young woman was just that, a woman; not that little baby Elsie had watched take her first steps.

"You've got that look on your face again," said Anna as Elsie gathered her bags.

"What look?"

"You know the look," said Anna, "It's the look that precedes the words 'I'm just feeling sentimental'."

"I suppose I am feeling sentimental." Elsie said, the image of the small but pudgy baby Anna still in her mind.

"Knew it." said Anna.

They shared a laugh as they walked out the doors of the shop. The weather had held so far, though Elsie was grateful they were going to buy her a new coat.

As Anna started into the next shop, Elsie asked, "I met Mathew, didn't I? At the Crawley barbecue?"

"Last May, yeah," said Anna, "He was there. Mary and he had that huge row afterwards."

"I thought he was a nice man!" Elsie said.

"Oh he is," Anna giggled, "If I'm honest, I, er, I hold him in high regard."

"In 'High regard'?"

"Yes," Anna giggled again, "He's a very likeable man."

"Are you trying to tell me you have a crush on Mary's man?" Elsie said in fake aghast.

"Something like that. I mean, I love John, but Mathew is - he's simply hard not have a crush on. You'd have a crush on him too if you knew him better."

"Oh, I very much doubt that." Elsie said, "He's half my age. Younger, probably."

"Is it odd?" asked Anna as she started skimming her way through the coat rack, "Is it odd to have a crush on someone when you love someone else? I can't be the only one that happens to."

"I don't think it's terribly odd," said Elsie, holding up a light grey coat in front of her, "I had a crush on your father years ago, when you were little, and I still loved Joe."

She stalled, not quite believing she had admitted that openly, and in front of Anna of all people.

Anna asked, "you did?"

Elsie hummed a mild affirmative response, then figured she'd go the fully monty, "I suppose I thought for a while that in another time, another place, we might have made a good pair."

Anna nodded noncommittally. Looking through a few more coats, she mumbled something.

"What did you say?" asked Elsie, starting to regret the words that had fallen from her lips.

"I said 'you do'. You do make a good pair." said Anna.

Elsie watched the girl walk away down towards the ski and snowboarding jackets. Her heart pounded against her ribs. A light dizziness began to catch in her eyes which she tried to blink away but it was too much. She couldn't think about Charlie like that. It was too much too soon. And Anna, how odd this must be for her. But herself and Charlie? They weren't to be. They couldn't be - except now, now things had changed.

But she didn't want them to change.

She jumped as her phone went off. Her fear switched gears as she pulled it out of her purse. She prayed it wasn't Joe.

"Oh, thank God," she said as she saw Beryl's name on the screen. Finding her voice, she answered, "Hello."

"Why didn't you call me?!" Beryl shouted.

"I'm sorry?"

"Joe called!" Beryl said, "Elsie, what's happened? Where are you? I've never been so worried -"

"I'm fine - well, no, I'm - I'm with Anna right now, we're shopping. I'm staying at Charlie's."

Beryl sighed, "Well that's good. He'll keep an eye on you. But my dear, what happened? Joe said you're getting a divorce -"

"-He said what?" Elsie leaned against the wall. Joe was calling her friends? No, that was her job, it was up to her to tell them. How could he - and nothing was finalized -

"He said you were getting a divorce and some shit about another woman - for fucks sake, Elsie?!"

"Beryl, please let's try to be calm about this," Elsie said, closing her eyes and slowly sliding down the wall. She remained standing slightly, finding her pride had not completely left her to sit on the floor in the middle of a shop.

"Calm? You want me to be fucking calm?!"

"Yes, actually, I do," said Elsie, "I _need_ you to be calm, in fact. I'm a mess enough as it is."

"But, Elsie! How dare he do this! That piece of corn shit - I'm in shock. And, oh my Lord, thirty years! It's been fucking thirty years! How could he -"

"Beryl, I'm staying at Charlie's, that's what you wanted to know so I'm hanging up. I really can't do this right now," She was not going to cry in a shop, she was not going to cry in a shop, she was not going to cry in a shop. Or in front of Anna. Never in front of Anna. Still her tears pricked at the edges of her eyes. She blinked.

"Call me, please, anything you need! Oh for fuck's sake, I could ring his neck."

"Goodbye Beryl." Elsie said, pressing the end call button.

Standing still, learning against the wall, Elsie felt her chin drop to her chest. A trembling started from the bottom of her belly, working its way up to her breath. She could scream. She needed to move.

"Anna?"

"Mumzi?" Anna's voice sounded muffled.

"Where are you?"

"I'm here. Right here," Anna said.

Elsie rounded the corner, running right into the younger woman. Anna appeared blurred, fuzzy almost, as if in a dream.

"We need to head home -" Elsie said, "No, that's not quite right. We need - we should buy you some rubbers, for New Years. You mustn't be without that -"

"Mumzi!" Anna hushed her, "I have some, thank you very much. There's no need."

"If you get pregnant, your father will have a heart attack."

"I'm not getting pregnant. You went with me to the doctors _and_ I have rubbers. John doesn't want kids any more than I do right now."

Elsie nodded, her vision slowly returning. She took a deep breath, "That's good then. I think, I think it might be wise for me to head home."

"Back to your house?"

"NO!" She jumped at the sound of her own shout. Then quietly she added, "No, I mean back to yours, your father's, Charlie's."

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine. I think I just need a bit of a lie down."

Anna was giving her a strange look, Elsie wasn't sure she'd ever seen it before. Then it dawned: Anna was worried about her. Elsie placed her hand on the girl's arm, "It's okay, I'm okay."

"If you're sure."

"Let's just head home."

"What about getting you a coat? You'll freeze. Unless you want to go back to your house and get your old one."

Shaking her head, Elsie said, "No, no, I'll buy one tomorrow. I don't think I plan on going anywhere today."

"But we're having breakfast tomorrow."

"Then I'll go later this afternoon."

Anna's look of worry had not yet left her face.

Elsie forced herself to smile, "I'm alright, really dear. Besides, you said you were going out with Gwen and I don't wish to keep you any longer than need be."

"I like shopping with you, you know that right?"

"I do, but it's nice to hear all the same."

They shared a smile. Elsie gently took Anna's arm and they made their way out of the shop. The ride home was uneventful. Elsie fiddled with her phone, and tried unsuccessfully not to wonder who else Joe had called.

When they walked through the door, they found Charlie in the living room watering plants. A look of extreme concentration graced his face so much so that when Anna gave him a hug, he jumped, surprised they had arrived home already.

"I'll be in my room," Anna said, taking her packages up the stairs.

Elsie dropped her own lone package onto the table. Something felt wrong.

When the sound of Anna's footsteps disappeared and her door slammed shut, Charlie said, "Joe called."

Biting her lip, Elsie attempted to ignore the way her blood had gone cold. Her voice barely muttered, "What did he want?"

Charlie, still standing in the living room almost as though afraid to approach her, explained, "He said 'hello.' and I said 'oh'."

Elsie gave him a watery smile.

Charlie continued, "Then he said, 'so you know?'. And I said 'yes'. And he asked, 'do you know where she is?' and I said, 'yes, she's staying with me'. And then he asked to speak with you and I told him that you were out with Anna. He said he'd call back, but I said 'don't bother'."

"Good," whispered Elsie.

He gave a quick nod then started to shuffle towards her, his worry evident in each step, "Are you sure?"

"Sure of what?"

"That you don't want to speak with him?"

He was standing in front of her. She could feel his warmth radiating off him. She was becoming too warm really, her chest hot and her head swimming. She said, "I want nothing to do with him."

"Elsie," Charlie reached forward, almost taking her hand, "I -"

"I'm not speaking with him, Charlie. I'll get a lawyer and she can speak to him."

Nodding again, Charlie finally met her eyes, "Do you remember Laura?"

"Laura?" Elsie racked her brains, the name sounded familiar but from long ago. "Oh, Alice's sister."

"Yes," Charlie swallowed sharply, "She too went through a divorce. About ten years ago now."

"What are you trying to say?."

"I worry about you - her husband left her for his secretary. Couldn't get any more cliche really. But Laura never got over it. She just sort of allowed it to happen, never fought for it, never said anything, and - and Elsie, she's been alone ever since."

"I'm not talking to Joe, Charlie."

"I know," He sighed, "I just don't want you to be - to be stuck, to not be able to move on. If there's a chance, you should talk to Joe. Don't let yourself wallow in false hope the rest of your life. I - I couldn't bare for you to live like that."

"You don't even know why we're divorcing." Elsie said, feeling herself switch from hot to cold instantly; Charlie's words were hitting too close to home.

"No, I don't know why, or what happened," Charlie took her hand then, his two big paws wrapping around her little one, "And you don't have to say, not if you don't want to. But I do worry about what happens after this. I don't want you to lose yourself."

"I won't." She said with more conviction than she felt, "Please, Charlie, I don't think I can discuss it right now."

"That's fine. But please, Elsie, discuss it, with someone, soon." He let go of her hand.

She wanted to lean into him, for him to wrap his arms around her, to be safe and snug against his soft blue shirt. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. Somehow she hadn't cried, and she wasn't going to start now. Instead, she patted his arm and offered a tight smile.

Grabbing her package, she made her way to the stairs. He watched her go. Before reaching the top she turned to say thank you but stopped when she saw his face. He looked as lost as she felt. Not wanting to dwell on it, she finished climbing the stairs and headed to her room. She decided she would remain there the rest of the night, even if it was only half-past four.

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 _An average of 4% of all readers leave a review...are you a part of the 4%? ;)_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY! I never meant to keep you all waiting! Life happened and I had an unexpected guest and the job happened. No excuse though. I promise to have more on the way right away after this and even shortened this chapter to make sure I could send out something this week._

 _Also: THANK YOU! For all your wonderful reviews. I don't think anyone ever has to review a story but it is immensely helpful to a writer. Even a 'Love it, keep going' is helpful cause it lets me know that what I'm doing is working. You guys also increased the percentage of reviewers: I believe it's now at 11%! So, well done :)_

 _This one is weird...for...reasons... but maybe you should tell me if it's weird or not ;)_

 _Goals:_

 _Word count - 2,146!_

 _No exposition - yeah, I may have actually made things too vague in this one, you let me know though, alright?_

 _Grammar Police please see note at the bottom*_

* * *

Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!

Elsie pressed the button on the screen of her phone, silencing her alarm. It didn't matter, she needn't have set it, she was already awake. Truth be told she couldn't remember the last time she stayed awake all night. One thing was certain, she hadn't felt as horrible then as she did now.

Rolling onto her side, she bunched her pillows under her head. Stupidly she looked through her messages for the fifth time since she'd gone to bed. Joe's twenty-one texts jumped across the screen:

 _Elsie call me when you get this._

 _Hey Im worried about you._

 _Whered you go?_

 _Are you at a hotel?_

 _I know what I said_

 _Was shocking but I  
needed to say it and Im_

 _Sorry I didn't tell you sooner  
_

 _Elsie?_

 _Did you go to Beryls?_

 _Your upset, I get that but_

 _I do still care about you  
and I don't want you  
_

 _getting hurt._

 _Call me._

 _Did you block me?_

 _Elsie Im really worried  
over here._

 _Call me please_

 _Your being silly, dear_

 _Are you arlight? Just tell me  
your alright_

 _ELSIE! For godsake!_

 _Im sorry. Will you call  
or text me? Its the  
last time Ill ask.  
_

 _Please._

She threw her phone across the room. The light thump against the carpeted floor was less than satisfying. Stupid phone. Groaning, she rolled onto her back and stared at the white ceiling, counting the tiny cracks that had appeared over the years of wear and tear. She wondered if Charlie knew those were there. Given his financial situation she decided not to tell him.

Slipping out of bed she slowly prepared herself for the day. Her shower took longer than usual as she stood there, eyes closed, letting the water wash over her, hoping maybe the water might also wash away her emotions. She didn't need them. Not really.

As she pulled on her new underwear she allowed herself to smile. It was the little things sometimes that made a difference. And now knowing what it felt like to go a half-day without underwear, she certainly appreciated the light cloth all the more.

Strange how the mind works. How she could smile at Charlie and Anna and get in a car and not quite notice that she was no longer in her room but on her way to breakfast with two of her favorite people. Stranger still was how, without being at all present, she could carry on a conversation with Anna about _Highclere_ , annoying Charlie with their idle gossip about a show on telly.

A line had already formed outside of _La Ronde_ but Elsie walked straight up to the front. Scanning the inside she waved as the tall man with slicked back jet black hair saw her.

"Ms. Hughes!" He said as he approached the trio, "How lovely to see you again."

"Henri! It's lovely to be here." Elsie said kissing his cheeks, "And this is Charlie Carson and his daughter, Anna."

Henri stepped forward and kissed Anna's cheeks as well. Charlie, however, held out his hand, which Henri graciously shook.

"Do follow me," said Henri.

As they entered, Elsie distinctly heard Charlie mutter, "Henri? He sounds like he's from West Country."

Anna and Elsie shared a look.

The table they were sat at stood in the middle of an old ballroom. Elsie glanced around, taking in the glittering jewels from long ago. The nightlife of the former ballroom must have been glorious and it felt oddly humbling to be surrounded by the outlandish leftovers of the 1920s.

"The wine is superb, I'll have you know," said Elsie, her worry catching up with her that Charlie might not enjoy a restaurant as French as the one they were in.

"I would expect nothing less." said Charlie, scanning the menu, "If the French do one thing right, it's wine."

Anna attempted to hide her eye roll by drinking her water. Elsie grinned at the girl, sharing an amusement of Charlie's disdain for anything un-English.

"How do you know Henri?" asked Anna.

"I did a piece about his mother - his aunt really," explained Elsie, "The Lady Shackleton. It's a rather sad tale. Henri's mother had a hard time of it - mental illness I believe. Lady Shackleton raised him instead."

"Is he in line for the Lordship then?" asked Charlie

Elsie smirked, "No, the Shackletons had a boy previous to Henri joining their family. Philip will be Lord Shackleton. Henri will have to settle as a restaurateur."

"What about Henri's father?" asked Anna, "The story sounds a tad familiar, but I at least had dad -"

"That was never properly explained," mused Elsie, "Though they're fiercely proud of how well they've managed as a family. They even allowed me to have Henri's story in the film. They simply left a few things out in the telling."

"And your mother wasn't mentally ill," added Charlie.

Anna drank from her water, muttering, "that's one point of view."

Elsie tensed at that. If she looked deep within herself, she often found she had one goal for Anna; which was to come to respect her mother regardless of the differences and problems the woman had created. After all, you only have one mother.

It wasn't easy to remain at the breakfast table, despite the interest Anna and Charlie took in learning about the restaurant. Elsie found herself floating between thinking about her upcoming Downton Project, wondering how long Charlie really wouldn't mind her staying, and pushing thoughts away about Joe and what he might be doing with Marla on a Sunday morning.

By the time the dessert crepes had arrived, Elsie's head ached. And while she didn't know it before hand, once it happened she knew the last thing in the world she wanted to hear was her name shouted by the voice of one Gladys Denker.

"Elsie Hughes!" the horrible woman approached their table.

Elsie looked up from her plate, a fixed smile on her face, "Gladys."

Deciding that anything Denker had to say was best said just to her, Elsie stood from the table and gave the woman an awkward hug. It didn't matter though, for Gladys always seemed to shout anything she had to say, especially if it was juicy gossip.

"Oh my darling, Elsie!" said Denker, loud enough for several tables around them to hear, "I heard you landed Downton - the Crawleys - you're quite the up and comer these days."

Elsie bit her lip. While she had won three Grierson awards and was once up for a BAFTA, Denker hadn't yet had a show make it to the BBC. Still, Elsie smiled, "yes, yes, I'm speaking with Lord Grantham tomorrow in fact."

"Oh that's good," said Denker, "You must be wanting to keep busy too, especially now after what's happened."

A block of ice dropped into Elsie's gut. She took a deep breath, saying, "I always like to keep busy."

"Oh I'm sure you do! Please don't mistake me. I only meant, what with Joe and everything."

 _How did this woman find out?!_ Elsie's mind screamed. Joe would never call Denker - she wasn't a friend, she never came to any of their parties. Unless he went through her address book, but that wasn't like him. But how else could she have found out? And from whom?!

The sly woman continued, "It's horrible, just horrible the way he ran off with a younger woman. Men, can't trust the lot of them!"

Elsie was surprised to find herself still standing. She had been certain she had just fallen off a cliff, or possibly fainted, but instead she was still standing staring at the woman in front of her. And even though she couldn't see them, she could feel the eyes of Anna and Charlie trained on her.

"No I suppose not." Elsie said, shocked at her grace, "I should get back to my meal, now. Good day Gladys."

"Of course, of course, please don't let me detain you, enjoy yourself!" Denker grinned all too widely and then slunk off.

Except Elsie didn't return to her table. She made a beeline straight for the ladies room knowing in the back of her mind that Anna would follow her soon enough. It didn't matter, she could live in a stall for a little while, stay out of sight, no one needed her around anyway -

When she entered the ladies she found herself instinctively standing over the sink, her hands under the rushing water. If she had it her way she would have dropped her head into a bucket of ice water, waking herself up or drowning. Drowning, that was a painless way out, wasn't it?

She shuddered. No, regardless of her life's situation it wasn't as bad as all that. Which somehow was a cheering thought, that drowning, quiet and painless as it was (was it?) was much less preferred to a divorce from her lifelong companion.

And really, this was the worst wasn't it? She reasoned, still staring at her hands. This was as low as she could get. Unless she lost her job, like Charlie, but even then she had enough money. It wouldn't make a dent if she didn't have a project for a few years.

And she still had Anna and Charlie, and Beryl and Bill, and even Rishi and Isobel.

And then there was her sister, doing so well in the USA.

Elsie sighed, a shaky breath falling from her lips as her chest shuttered with embarrassment and shame.

The door clicked open, Elsie felt Anna before she saw her. The girl placed her hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles.

"Who the hell was that?" Anna asked, almost jokingly exasperated.

"Denker," Elsie said, rolling her eyes, "Well known trouble maker."

"Someone whose opinion doesn't matter then?" Anna said. She was looking at Elsie in the mirror almost sheepishly. As if reciting one of Elsie's famous-Mumzi-lines was only for Elsie to do and not Anna. As Anna's words washed over her, Elsie felt herself smile, really smile, for the first time _._

"Oh Anna," Elsie said, "You're quite right."

"I learned from the best," said Anna.

Sighing, Elsie looked from Anna to the door, still not quite sure if she was able to face the onlookers who must have heard all of Denker's shouting.

"Dad wanted me to ask if he could do anything 'manly and intimidating' for you," said Anna, "although I'm not entirely sure what he means."

Elsie laughed so hard Anna jumped in surprise. It took a moment, for the tears streaking across Elsie's face were tears of mirth, and she couldn't stop to breath to explain. Anna looked on in exasperation.

"It means," said Elsie, slowly pulling herself together, "that he's trying to repay a debt of sorts."

"Are you going to explain what _that_ means?"

"No." Elsie said, then giggled as she tried to reign in another bout of laughter, "I'm afraid that's entirely a joke between your father and I."

Anna grumbled. The girl didn't press her, and the two slowly made their way out the door back into the dinning hall.

Charlie stood a few feet from the ladies. A glare seemed to echo from his face, as if he dared any of the patrons to even glance at Elsie as she reemerged.

"How are you?" He asked, almost whispering so as not to draw attention to them.

"Fine, fine," Elsie waved him off. "Shall we finish our dessert?"

"Oh," Charles pursed his lips, "I'm afraid they took everything while you were away."

"No matter," Elsie said, although a wave of sorrow washed over her at those words, she pushed it away wondering where it had come from, "I'll find Henri and then we can leave. Anna are you packed for this afternoon?"

"Yes," said Anna, "And Mary said they'll be arriving at two instead of three."

"Well then we had better get a move on," said Charlie.

Heading to find Henri, Elsie first stopped at Charlie's side. Standing on her tip-toes she kissed his cheek and squeezed his arm, whispering a soft 'thank you' as she pulled away. He grunted his response, but she knew he understood what she meant. That 'manly and intimidating' running joke always had her in stitches. Which Charlie knew all too well. And, as she thought about it, scanning the crowd for a tall skinny black haired man, Charlie was really the only one who could make her laugh like that.

* * *

 _*Grammar police: My grammar is not perfect, although I have as yet not run into you so I feel I'm doing well. That being said, just in case, Joe's text messages were purposefully written with spelling and grammatical mistakes. Anything else you can arrest me for, but not that ;)_

 _Wondering something? Curious about something? Worried about something? Leave a review!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello. I'm back. Sorry for the delay. I shouldn't be disappearing any time soon, I hope. I'm looking forward to continuing this journey and hope you are too!_

 _And away we go:_

* * *

"I know how this conversation ends, Dad."

"Then you know why we have to have it."

Elsie closed her eyes. For the last hour she had been reliving Denker's words, _'just horrible the way he ran off with a younger woman'_ , now, in a sick twist, those words were being drowned out by Anna and Charlie. She sat at the table working on Charlie's laptop, but really Elsie was doing her best eavesdropping. Anna rarely argued with her father, when she did it was unpleasant at best and painful at worst. It was one of the few times Elsie wished she were Anna's birth mother. Her lack of relation made it more difficult for her to step in - however wrong she felt Charlie was.

"I'm not going to smoke. I'm not going to snort cocaine, or shoot heroin. I don't even drink!" Anna said.

"And for that I am grateful." Charlie said, "but it doesn't hurt to be reminded why we don't do such things, or how to refrain from doing them. You'll be in London, at clubs and parties with people who might do these things -"

"My mother was ill, Dad, she had addictions - I know it can be genetic. I know I might fall into the same patterns, I know! I know! I know. I have goals, I have people I care about, I'm not going to throw that all away." Anna countered, clearly hoping to end the conversation.

"Again, Anna, I'm grateful for that. But don't go thinking there won't be something, or somebody out there that tempts you away from those things. You're smart, you're beautiful, and you're capable, someone will try to take advantage of you, they will try to hurt you, they will -"

Elsie rolled her eyes. How dreary Charlie could be sometimes.

"No, Dad, and I'm done discussing it. I don't want to discuss it anymore. We've been having this conversation my entire life."

"Then I don't feel comfortable allowing you to go to London." Charlie said.

"Allow?" Anna shot back, "Allow me to go? Mary and I have planned this trip for months! London. New Years Eve. I'll drive myself down! I'll -"

"And who gave you that car?! You are not -"

"Charlie," Elsie jumped in, "Don't say anything you can't take back."

He looked at her, his face flushed with frustration. Miraculously the doorbell rang before he could say anymore.

"They're here." Anna said, "I'm going."

She picked up her small duffel bag and headed towards the door. Elsie and Charlie followed. Mary and Matthew stood on the door step. Matthew looked rather glum about something while Mary's face extolled her superiority. They exchanged a few pleasantries. Matthew took Anna's bag from her and placed it in the boot of the car.

"Anna," Charlie tried again, softer, "Just don't -"

"I'll see you later." Anna said, "Bye, Mumzi."

The girl gave Elsie a quick hug and spun around. Elsie caught her arm, and as gently as her annoyance would allow, said, "Say goodbye to your father."

Anna glared, but threw out a quick, "Bye Dad."

Just as quickly they were in the car and driving out of sight.

When Elsie turned to look at Charlie he appeared smaller, tucked in on himself. A frown graced his features and it was clear he wasn't understanding quite where he went wrong. Placing a hand on his arm, Elsie tried in vain to offer support. He was miles away from her. She could imagine what he was thinking. She simply didn't want to go down that dark path herself.

"Charlie, come inside, I'll make us some tea." She said.

He grunted his response and accompanied her in. The cold followed them. Elsie rushed to the stove to get the tea going. This was going to be another night the wind left her shivering alone in her room. She sighed. Could she really fool herself like that? The cold keeping her awake at night?

Except it was true.

But it also wasn't.

Worry kept her awake at night. Now she could add Anna to her list of worries. A list she went over in her head hour after hour whenever she was left alone for long enough. Ever since Joe had said those fateful words. And it had only been two days.

"Elsie?" Charlie's voice called from the other room.

"Yes, Charlie?" She called back, setting the burner on high and looking around for his strainers.

"Never mind." He croaked.

She didn't like that. Heading in towards the living room she found him sitting in a chair at the dinning table, head in hands. She couldn't tell if he was crying. He mumbled to himself.

"I'm a terrible father." He said finally.

"Why do you say that?" She asked.

Walking up to him, she stood with his head inches from her body. If he had been Joe, she might have pulled his head against her tummy. He might have wrapped his arms around her waist. But as it was, he was Charlie and she was Elsie, just friends. She looked down at the back of his neck and bit her lip.

"I'm going to drive my daughter to the drink." He said into his hands, "She's going to become her mother. And some poor bloke is going to find her -"

"Don't," Elsie said. She put her hand on his head in an effort to stop his train of thought, briefly noting how soft his hair was, "Don't go there. You don't know what the future holds. Anna…"

"Terrible father," He mumbled again, "I can't even support her now. I had a job. I was good at my job, but now all of that is gone. I'm not bloody good at anything."

She ran her fingers through his hair, an attempt at comforting. He sighed. When he did finally look up at her, she saw his red eyes and lost expression. She gave him a soft smile.

"I can think of one thing you're good at." She said.

"What's that?" He rumbled.

"You're a good friend." She said, "I wouldn't be here if you weren't."

He nodded. At least, she thought he was nodding, agreeing with her. Really, his eyes had glazed over again, and he was back in his own worried world.

The tea kettle whistled. Elsie dropped her hand from his soft hair and returned to the kitchen. She called over her shoulder, "And besides, you have a wonderful daughter, so you must have done something right."

"Even if there are a few silly arguments," she added to herself as she gathered the teacups and poured the hot water.

When she walked back to the living room, he was gone. A faint thud upstairs told her he was in his room. She shook her head. Setting down one teacup, she walked up the stairs with the other and knocked on his door. "Tea's ready."

The sound of water whistling told her all she needed to know. She quietly walked into his room, hoping he was already in the shower and not standing about naked. The prospect of a naked Charlie not unbecoming to her, but given the emotional state they were both in she didn't think it wise to have such an encounter. Awkward moments were often best avoided with Charlie. She set his teacup on his bedside table and returned to her work.

Spreadsheet after spreadsheet consumed her for several hours. The beginning of a project always thrilled her. The organization of all the different time frames, the pay schedules, even the different camera dates she could figure out mostly in her head. She had done dozens of these projects and knew the process better than anyone. Lady Violet was not the first irrational member of the upper class and Elsie was quite sure she knew how to work with her and even, possibly, hopefully, interview her.

Absorbed in her work she didn't hear Charlie come down and make another round of tea until he was refilling her cup. She smiled at him, noting quietly the dark circles and sunken appearance of his face. His hair was still wet. She could easily imagine he had been crying in the shower.

"Cheers," she said, lifting the freshly poured tea to her lips.

"My pleasure," he said quietly.

He sat next to her at the table and fiddled with his own teacup. The flower patterns he traced with his finger before clearing this throat.

"We need to talk." He said.

"If you're going to go on about how terrible you are again, I'm not interested." She said, her eyes still on the laptop screen.

"I'm afraid there is a similar theme here." He said

She looked up. His brow knit and his lips pursed and altogether he looked terrifically hopeless. She attempted a light smile.

"Why don't you tell me what it is, and I'll decide if it makes you terrible?" She offered.

"Very well." He said, squaring himself to the deal, "I'm not sure how much longer you're going to be able to stay here."

He might have punched her in the stomach, the surprise would have been equal. "How do you mean?"

"Actually, to be more precise, I'm not sure how much longer either of us will be able to stay here."

"The point, please."

"I just received my quarterly statement from my company - my old company. And, you remember my telling you I had about twenty years worth of savings?"

"Yes."

"It appears it would be more accurate to say I have about ten years worth. More likely six to seven years worth."

He took a deep inhale of breath at that and looked as though he might try to hold that breath until he passed out. She merely nodded.

"By my calculations, it would be prudent, if not wise financially, to sell my house and rent a flat until Anna's schooling is over and she's settled on her own." He finished.

"I see." She said, turning this new information over in her mind. "I'm going to ignore for now how it is possible someone such as yourself only has six years worth of retirement savings, and instead I'm going to ask - I don't know, I - you want to sell your house?"

"I never said the word 'want'." He grumbled, "And if you don't remember we're in the middle of a recession right now, or rather, more likely, at the start of one, and my savings took quite a hit, and it never did quite rebound after the market collapse in ninety-nine."

"So do you or don't you want to sell your house?"

"Like I said, I don't want to. I just feel that it would be prudent, or intelligent, to do so in order to keep myself, and Anna, afloat for another few years or so."

At this point Elsie closed the laptop and turned toward him fully. She had given a great deal of thought regarding his financial situation and was now able to finally do something with those thoughts: "Charlie, I hope you don't find this impertinent, but I'm wondering what you would say if I offered to look over your finances - with you, mind. Perhaps, not being as affected by it all, I might see something you don't."

"No, no," he shook his head, "I don't find that impertinent. But, are you sure? I am an accountant -"

"I know. And I've run the accounting on all my projects since the beginning of my producing career. I've also turned a profit for every one, so I think I have some skill with numbers." She added cheekily.

He gave her a half grin, "I think, I think that might be a good idea. I just don't want to add anything more to your overburdened plate."

"You're not." She smiled, "I'm always happy to help out a friend. And besides, if it means you can keep your house, then we both win."

"Yes, I suppose that's true."

"Well, now that that's settled, let me get on with my work. The Clarksons keep nagging me about the set schedules and I need to have it all approved by Lady Violet." Elsie opened the computer and started clicking back to her original spreadsheet.

"Right then, I'll just worry about it when you tell me it's time to worry." Charlie said. He gathered his teacup and headed back to the staircase, his step a tad lighter, "Oh, did you want to go to Beryl's party, New Years?"

"I don't think I'm allowed to miss Beryl's New Years Eve party." She smirked.

"Right," Charlie frowned thoughtfully, "well, then, I'll leave you to it."

She nodded and he left her in peace. After a moment looking at her computer she allowed her eyes to drift to his retreating backside as he made his way up the stairs. She briefly wondered why he had asked if she was going to Beryl's party, but then shrugged the thought off and continued on with her time table spreadsheet.

* * *

 _Leave a review if you are so inclined on this particular beautiful day!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello again! Don't get too excited, I won't be able to post this quickly normally. This chapter came quite easily. I do hope to post more regularly than every two years though, so that's good.  
_

 _A random note about your author: I have a deep obsession/love for all things personal finance/economics. I tried to keep that stuff to the minimum needed to move the story along. Because I love it so much I can see myself potentially becoming a bit too involved in that area of the story, so please let me know if the money stuff gets, eh, boring. :)_

 _On with the show!_

* * *

 **1:58AM**

Elsie rolled over, away from the clock. Her mind wouldn't stop. A whirling dervish of emotions and memories, she couldn't seem to shut them up no matter what. Her to do list was foremost on her mind. She needed to call Robert back and politely disagree: they could refurbish the servants quarters in order to do a bit of filming. The Ladies had to send her their schedules. And she had to call the bank to make sure the payroll was updated.

And then, of course, there was Joe. She pushed him out of her mind, shaking her head, every time his face popped into her minds eye. But it was no use. He was right there.

Memories of their first New Years together - the fancy attire they wore only for him to bring her to a cold barn in the middle of Argyll, their own music, their own dancing, their own kisses unseen by anyone else. They made love in that barn, how many times? She sighed and rolled onto her other side. She mustn't focus on the good memories.

 **2:43AM**

Really it had been thirty-five years. She blanched. Thirty-five years together. Five years of dating and waiting. Thirty years of marriage. Of course they wouldn't now make it to thirty years. February 1st, their anniversary. She hoped all the paper work was done by then. By their anniversary, she hoped she was a free woman.

She laughed aloud in her little room. What did it even mean to be free? Sleeping alone in a cold bedroom that wasn't her own. She hadn't even unpacked her little red suitcase into the chest of drawers.

Perhaps it meant she was free to kiss anyone she liked. He certainly was. That had been his intention all along. Divorce Elsie, Fuck Marla. That was his plan. How kind he was to wait for the divorce.

And besides, on the kissing front he had given his permission. ' _Kiss whoever you like, just remember you're coming home with me_.' He had laughed, winked, at that. New Years Eve 1987, all the ladies lining up to give Charlie a small peck after Alice had died. It had become tradition at this point.

And now she would be the one with no one to kiss. Tomorrow evening, when everyone else had their partners, she would be alone.

 **3:54AM**

Perhaps not alone. Charlie would be there. Beryl and Isobel would give him their due diligence - a small peck on the lips. Tradition. She would do the same. But then, after that - no one else. Bert had always been too shy, and Rishi wisely steered clear.

She took a deep breath. Yes, at least she would have Charlie to kiss come New Years Eve.

She cringed. That awful memory finding its way into her brain. Her whole body squirmed at the thought of it. The guilt of it. Little blasts of those stolen moments in Beryl's backyard. It must have been four years ago, when Anna went away to University. She squirmed again, her sheets getting caught around her feet.

 _'I'm not much of a catch', said Charlie._

His face, so sad. She could still feel the tension in her body, sitting so close to him, rubbing shoulders. Her belly was in knots. And she had clearly had too much to drink.

 _'I think you're quite a catch', she said._

And then she had kissed him. Albeit chastely. Albeit for a slight second longer than necessary. Too long for friends.

Four years ago and they had never discussed it. Good god, what had she been thinking? Was this karma? Had Joe seen her? Had that been the tipping point for their relationship?

 **4:35AM**

The clock was mocking her. Of that she was certain. She rolled onto her stomach, the only position she hadn't yet tried. Her body ached and burned all at once. How could she be so hot on a night like this? And she had frozen the first half of the night. She huffed. Fluffing her pillows she wiggled her body into an L shape that she knew wouldn't last long. Stupid body.

Stupid Joe.

Stupid Charlie.

Stupid Anna.

Everything was stupid. What a stupid fucking mess she was. Her body pushed at her and if she had any lapse of control she knew she would scream.

Stupid clock.

What would Charlie say, she wondered, if she broke his clock?

 **8:37AM**

The click of the door startled her awake. Awake, good, that meant at some point she must have fallen asleep in order to then…awake. She buried her face among the pillows. She was still on her stomach. Her eyes creaked open as she heard the tinkling of china on wood.

Charlie.

She spun around, sheets clutching her hips. Groggily she watched him jump back in surprise.

"Oh! You're awake." He said.

She hummed her response.

"Well, sort of," he chuckled, "I brought you some tea. There's pastries from Bert's downstairs."

Something about that bothered her, but she wasn't quite alert enough to know why. Gently she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and got a proper look at her friend.

"You're chipper this morning," she said, her voice heavy with sleep. "Also, good morning."

"Good morning," his smile broadened, "I brought up my files, if you have a chance, perhaps we could go over some of the details today?"

"Yes, yes, of course," she said. She glanced at the bedside table and picked up the teacup he had just set there. He stood besides her bed and she wasn't quite sure why he was staring at her.

"Charlie," she said as the thought popped through her head, "what if I had been naked?"

The tips of his ears turned pink. He swallowed sharply, "naked?"

"Yes, if I slept naked and you came in - although I do appreciate the gesture." She raised her teacup at him.

"Oh heavens, I'd not thought of that." He looked everywhere but at her, "But you don't."

He waved a hand at her appearance. And true enough, she was wearing a night gown.

"I don't sleep naked in the winter. But sometimes in the summer I do." She confessed taking a small sip of tea.

His mouth formed the shape of an 'o' which was all the response she needed. She could tease him, but had learned to stop just before he felt too awkward.

"Which makes me wonder," She continued, "it might not matter if I'm not going to be here in the summer."

"How do you mean?" He asked.

"Well, either you're selling your house or we need to discuss how long I'm actually staying." She said.

"However long you need," he reiterated, "or until I sell, whichever comes first."

"Charlie," she smiled, "you don't have a house guest without knowing when they leave. You taught me that."

"Yes, but," he sat down on the edge of the bed, "this is different."

"How is it different?" She scoffed.

"Because, it's different," he said, "Do you want to leave?"

"No, it's not -"

"Well then, what's the fuss about? You stay as long as you want, end of discussion." He clapped his hands as if to finalize that.

"And if that's in a year, two years?" She pressed, because really, how silly he was being.

"Then it's two years."

She rolled her eyes at him. Drinking another sip of tea, she quickly tried to find another way to broach the subject.

"Besides, I doubt you'll want to stay too long," he added, "I'm not the easiest person to live with."

"Yes, I'm beginning to see that," she quipped. It was his turn to roll his eyes. He stood from the bed.

"I'll be downstairs. There's no rush, enjoy your tea, have a pastry, we can reconvene when it's convenient for you." He said. He waited for her nod and then slipped out of the room.

After a luke-warm shower (her body still felt hot) she settled on a pair of jeans and her favorite green jumper. The shower had calmed her nerves somewhat, but she still couldn't shake how sleepy she felt. When she finally arrived downstairs her jaw dropped. The entire dinning table was covered from end to end with ledgers and accounting books.

Moving around the table she picked up a leather bound book that was the richest mahogany. Opening to a random page she found:

 _14 October 1994_  
 _Lunch at Gilbet's -£43.40 (-£10, 456.43)_  
 _Gas bill -£24.35 (-£10,479.78)_  
 _Dinner at Shelly's -£56.45 (-£10, 536.23)_

She stared at the date: 1994. Looking back at the collection of books she wondered how far back they all went. She returned to the book in her hands her heart skipping a little, negative ten thousand pounds? She didn't remember Charlie being in debt. But then, they had never really discussed finances before. She was a little surprised, really, to find that he was so willing to let her peak into this part of his life.

The front door closed and she turned to see him walk in carrying a bunch of newspapers.

"Ah, I was afraid you might have fallen back to sleep," he said. He threw his car keys into a small dish and walked into the dinning area.

"Charlie, are all of your finances written by hand?" She asked

"Yes, of course." He looked around at the table, "I suppose it is a bit daunting when you look at it."

"I would agree," she said.

"I don't think we need to go through all of them. That one there," he nodded to a small tattered black book sitting precariously on the edge of the table, "that's the beginning, 1969, when I started working in a book shop. And that one," he nodded to the blue book on the top of the tallest pile, "that's the most recent one."

"Right," she said, she picked up the blue book, "let's start with the most recent one then, shall we?"

"Certainly, let me just put these down," he indicated the pile of newspapers in his hands, "I'll be right back."

He went off towards his office and she opened to the first page of his most recent ledger. Her heart nearly stopped.

"You have credit card debt?" She shouted down the hallway.

"What?" His head appeared around his office door. "Yes, I'm afraid I do."

"You have four thousand pounds of credit card debt?!" She tried not yelling it, but wasn't sure she was succeeding. He walked back into the dinning area.

"Yes, that's around national average." He said. The look on her face spurred him on, "I had loans to pay off before, and I had to keep up with my job. I couldn't go around working with Lords and Ladies in some used suit and crap car could I? I would never have earned their respect."

"I understand that, but are you out of your mind?" she couldn't control it, not really, "You never have credit card debt, ever! That's one of the first rules of finance -"

"But it's normal! Everyone has credit card debt!"

"I don't!" She looked back at the book, "And at eighteen percent interest, are you kidding? What have you been doing to yourself these past years, Charlie?"

"I've been paying it off!" He roared, "That's down from the six thousand pounds it was two years ago!"

"Jesus Christ," she said, "how are you paying for anything? You can't go get pastries from Bert's, you can't just jump in your car and waste petrol like it's nothing! Come on, Charlie, you can't waste money like this. Besides it's not like you have any place to go now, you don't have to keep up appearances."

That had been a low blow and she knew it. She hung her head and gathered her courage to look at him, to hold his gaze and try to make him see sense.

When she did finally look up, his lips pursed together and his jaw clenched. She could see the bones in his jaw moving in and out. "Charlie, what are you thinking?"

"I'm starting to think you shouldn't be looking at those," he said. "I'm going to be in my office the rest of the day, I think it would be wiser for me to find a new job than for the two of us to deal with this," he waved his hand over the books.

She nodded but didn't trust herself to say anything. He gave a little huff of annoyance before stalking off down the corridor to his office. Whether or not he wanted her to look through his finances, the books were still out, and she felt a strong desire to fix whatever this problem was.

It also meant she wasn't dwelling on her own problems. At some point, she realized, she was going to have to go over her finances with Joe and that was the last thing she wanted to think about.

She made herself some coffee and began busying herself with his small blue book. It took her a few hours before she bothered to look up. The clock on the well read a little after noon and she made herself a small plate of lunch. She debated a moment as to whether or not Charlie would want a sandwich too, but decided he would come out of his office when he was ready.

It was around dinner time she realized what his pile of newspapers had been for. He was searching the classifieds. She shook her head in wonder. Taking a glance down the hall, he still hadn't emerged, and she considered for a moment making him an online profile for job searches. Reality took hold. No, he wouldn't want that. They would have to do it together, if he did it at all.

At seven she knocked on his office door but he didn't respond so she ate dinner alone. At ten she returned to her bedroom, already dreading another long night filled with restlessness.

It was just after two in the morning. She had rehearsed all the things she wanted to say to him. Her brain was foggy from the last few nights of insomnia and still, sleep would not come. Resigning herself to the worst, she rolled out of bed, threw on her dressing gown and slippers and padded her way downstairs. Tea and a biscuit would not be remiss.

On the second landing she saw light peaking through the bottom of Charlie's bedroom door. Surely he was asleep. But then again, she reasoned, he was in the midst of change and turmoil just the same as she. Perhaps he was awake too.

That was enough. If they were both going to be miserable and sleep deprived, they might as well be so together.

She knocked on his door. A gruff, "yes," set her to opening it. She found him sat up in bed, pillows bunched behind his back, a remote lay in his hand and the telly on. She smiled at him. He looked so warm and cozy in the blue and white stripped pajamas she and Anna had given him for Christmas.

"Can't sleep either, I see," she started.

"No, no I can't." He said. She could see he was still frustrated with her, but his anger was subsiding and clearly tinged with some sadness.

"What are you watching?" She asked, walking further in to see the screen.

"Oh some documentary or other about the crusades." He had the sound on mute. The words the narrator said popped up in black and white on the bottom of the screen.

She bit her lip, considered her options, then asked, "can I join you for a moment?"

He looked at her, not entirely in surprise, then nodded, "you may."

Fluffing up the pillows next to him, he made a little space for her. She slipped off her slippers and under the blankets to cover her bare legs. Rearranging her dressing gown in an effort to hide the thin nighty beneath it she settled back against the pillows. They watched the show for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry I was harsh with you earlier." She said, breaking the silence.

He looked at her, surprised, "No, no, I should apologize, I know how foolish I've been."

"I shouldn't have reacted so strongly." She admitted, "And you don't deserve that, not from me."

He sighed his response. She glanced at him sideways. He was such a big man, and he had such a way of making himself appear small. They watched the narrator walk down the hall of some underground passage.

"I may have good news though, if you're interested," she said, "although I can't promise you'll like my ideas."

He turned to her fully, "I'm always interested to hear your thoughts."

She stifled a laugh at that, "You have two cars. Sell one and pay off your credit card."

Mulling that thought over, his eyes returned to the telly. "I can see that. I certainly don't need two cars, now that Anna has her own."

"And I don't think you need to sell your house," she added.

"No?"

"No," she swallowed to gather her courage, "No, I think if you took on a lodger, you could pay off your mortgage quickly and then you'd have a steady stream of income. And if you don't spend as much as you did in the past - because of your job - you might even be able to, dare I say it, retire?"

He nodded to show he had heard her, but she knew him well enough to know he didn't like that last part.

"I don't like lodgers. What if they stole something?" he said.

"Well, you don't have to decide right now." She countered, having decided earlier she wasn't going to push him, "It's just good to know you have options."

"Indeed it is."

They continued watching the telly, their conversation idle. It was at the point where she thought she might head back to her room that he spoke again.

"Do you remember the last time we sat like this?" He asked, his eyes trained on the telly.

She thought back. A smile graced her face, although she tried to keep it small, "yes, I believe I do."

"Anna must have been nine months." He said.

It was clear in her mind, that night. At the time it had seemed like a hardship, but now it was a cherished memory.

"That poor dear, so sick. And you were such a wreck." She said, "we kept handing her back and forth."

"You stayed the whole night, I'll never forget that," he added, "no one else stayed the whole night with me. Although I certainly needed it then."

"I thought Cora and Laura helped out too," she said, surprised and a bit shocked to find she was the only one who stayed with him like that.

"Oh they did, but never the whole time." He thought about it, "maybe Laura a few times in the beginning, being Anna's aunt and all, but she lived in Bath and couldn't always help in the way you could."

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she stifled what the implications were that she had stayed an entire night, and on more than one occasion. She could see the two of them so clearly, the wailing baby in the arms of the big man. All she had wanted at the time was to hold the little baby Anna.

"I'm glad I was there for it," she said simply.

He turned to her and smiled deeply. Returning the smile, she was only vaguely aware of the small space between them and the bed upon which they lay propped up like two old fuddy-duddies. She chuckled, and when he looked at her curiously, she waved him off.

Not long after that her eyes grew heavy and she drifted off into the soft scent of his pillows.

* * *

 _Leave a review! Before you go to sleep!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you for all your lovely reviews! They make my day, each and every one!_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

She only woke up because she was soaking wet with sweat. She was hot. She threw off the covers, tore off her dressing gown and lay back feeling the coolness of the room through her night gown. The soft snores coming from next to her told her Charlie was still sleeping. That was a relief. The last thing she wanted to do was wake him up.

She tried to remember the dream she'd been having. Images floated past her, something about Charlie and a motorbike. She almost laughed out loud. Biting her lip to keep herself quiet, she chuckled inwardly. Charlie and a motorbike: never in a million years. Smiling in the dark, she glanced next to her at the real Charlie. He slept with his back to her, the covers pulled down to his waist, his hands tucked under his pillows.

The television was off so he must have fallen asleep after her. She was grateful he hadn't tried to wake her. They had shared beds before, but they had always had a baby Anna between them, and usually one of them would remain awake. This was likely far more intimate for him. It was starting to feel rather intimate for her.

He rolled over, releasing a light breath. His head landed next to her own. He kissed her shoulder, surprising her, then he muttered something that sounded like, "where's the gravy?"

She had forgotten how he talked in his sleep. Still trying not to laugh, she pulled away from him and slid out of bed. He murmured his dissent. She blushed. It felt good to know even in his sleep he wanted her to stay with him. She gathered up her things, finding it wise to return to her own room, the last thing she wanted was to find out if he got handsy in his sleep as well. Her body shivered at the thought. She attributed the shiver to her minimal amount of clothing. Butterflies stirred in her stomach. The spot on her shoulder where he kissed her still felt warm.

Time to go. She walked out of his room, taking the time to quietly close the door behind her. The staircase, she discovered was a warmer area than either bedroom. She padded back up the stairs to her room on the top floor.

She threw her things in a heap on her suitcase and then threw herself into her bed. Somehow it was much cooler in her room. She shivered again and pulled the blankets over her. She then promptly burst into tears.

"Why?" she asked aloud to a blank room.

Shoving her face into her pillow, she let the sobs burst through. She knew why she was crying, and at the same time, she couldn't fathom why it had come out of nowhere.

Joe. Clearly she was crying because of Joe. And for Charlie. How kind he was being to her. Her lip trembled at the thought and more tears fell hot and fast down her cheeks.

She cried for a while, sobs turning into sighs. Laughter bubbled up through her tears. _'Where's the gravy'_ She replayed that moment and continued to laugh. She found herself eternally grateful this swath of emotions occurred after she had left Charlie's bed. She could only imagine his face, waking up to a sweaty laughing and crying woman.

The pieces began to put themselves together. How had she not realized before? But then again, she reasoned, hiccuping a few more laughs and wiping at her tears, she had been rather preoccupied with Joe.

Her body was changing.

She laughed again, but then felt sadness hug her around the shoulders. Her body was changing. She hadn't had her period in three months. Perimenopause - that was what her doctor had called it four years ago when she stopped feeling interested in sex. It was such an odd time. You didn't know you had it until it is was over. Menopause explained a lot: the night sweats, the insomnia, and even the mood swings. Although she realized she couldn't attribute all her mood swings to her body's changes.

Was that why Joe was leaving her?

Would any man want her now?

She shook her head. It didn't matter. She wasn't going to go jumping on the first man she saw once the divorce was finalized. Space would be good. A small bit of relief dropped into her stomach. At least now she knew she wasn't losing her mind entirely. Joe may have stressed her out, may have ruined a perfectly good thing, but he hadn't destroyed who she was.

With that tiny bit of confidence returning, she rolled over in her bed, her mind finally allowing her to sleep.

* * *

"Why did you bother hanging it up?" She asked.

"I didn't think something like that should be in a bundle on the floor." He said.

They were staring at the dress she had bought. The one Anna had made her buy. Midnight blue, far too low cut, shapely, curvy - all the things that screamed sex when Elsie couldn't think of anything she felt like less.

Charlie had gone on a cleaning spree that morning. At some point he must have vacuumed her room, found the dress and hung it up. Hung it up in a spot she couldn't miss. If she didn't know any better she might have thought he was asking her to wear it.

As they spoke she watched him glance at the pile of clothes still spilling out of her suitcase. He might have been looking at a rabid raccoon the way he glared at the pile.

"I haven't got around to putting things away." She said, stating the obvious. Earlier that afternoon Joe had dropped off a large suitcase full of all her clothes and jackets. He even managed to throw in a few of her heels knowing she was going to Beryl's party that night. She still wasn't sure how she felt about him doing that. She remained grateful Charlie had done all the talking.

"You can use the dresser, I don't mind. This is your room, Els." Charlie said, waving his hand around the room.

She nodded and then glanced at the dress again. It was far too low cut, she thought again.

The doorbell rang for the second time that day. They shared a glance, she knew they were both hoping it wasn't Joe again. Charlie excused himself and went to answer it. She sat on her bed and continued to stare at the mocking dress.

"Oh, to hell with it," she said.

She stripped off her jumper and jeans, changed into a different bra and gently tugged the dress off the hanger and over her head.

Her brow crinkled as she looked at herself in the mirror. It was low cut. The tops and sides of her breasts were just visible, the material clung to her hips, adding to her already curvy body. If she already felt sexy, this would have been the dress to wear.

It reminded her of another dress she wore once. A red dress that covered her arms and slightly exposed her chest. She inhaled sharply, that had been the dress she'd been wearing when -

The memory returned and this time she didn't fight it, she let it float through her mind. She tried her best to push away the guilt that accompanied it:

 _Happy New Year! 2005!_

 _The banner ran across the patio door where she had just watched Charlie disappear. Joe and Bert were discussing the merits of a good table saw leaving her the chance to duck out of the conversation and follow her best friend._

 _She found him sitting outside in the mild winter weather. He sat on the edge of the brick patio, his long legs tucked. He swirled his champagne around in the glass, mesmerized by the spinning liquid._

 _"May I join you?" She asked._

 _He looked up and smiled sadly at her, "Of course."_

 _She closed the patio door. The sounds of the party disappeared, drowned out by the sound of the breeze shifting through the trees. They were alone in the dark._

 _"What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" She asked._

 _His gaze returned to his champagne glass, "I suppose I'm trying to get used to being lonesome."_

 _"You're missing Anna, off at university," she said. She pulled her dress so she could sit down. As she sat she tumbled into him. He pressed a hand to her shoulder as she settled in next to him, "sorry about that."_

 _"Too many drinks?" He asked chuckling._

 _"Not yet, I don't think," she said, shoving him playfully, "these damn heels. And it's bloody dark out here, Charlie."_

 _They sat in silence for a few moments. She watched him play with his champagne._

 _"Why don't you ever…see anyone?" she asked, not entirely sure how to phrase the question._

 _"You mean, why haven't I met another woman?" he rephrased._

 _"Yes, I suppose. But I don't mean you have to find another wife," she explained, "just, why haven't you dated anyone recently? It's been a while hasn't it?"_

 _"Yes, it's been a while." He said. His voice twinged with sorrow. She wasn't sure if it was the way the moonlight hit his features, but he looked older, worn out, almost as if he had given up hope at the very prospect of being with another woman. His eyes appeared watery._

 _"I suppose," he started, "Elsie I - Oh, I don't know."_

 _She had only seen him this defeated once before. An impulse roused her hand and she touched the side of his hair, smoothing it for a moment, hoping she could sooth whatever pain it was he was feeling. He leaned into her ever so slightly._

 _"I'm not much of a catch," he said._

 _She took in his face: his handsome features, the long nose and strong brow. She thought about how many nights they had spent laughing together, arguing about this or that, their teasing. A bubble of tension grew in her stomach._

 _"Don't say that," she said quietly._

 _"But it's true," he continued, "I'm becoming an old man, a curmudgeonly old man at that."_

 _The tension tightened in her abdomen as her breath grew shallow. She swallowed, her eyes following the play of moonlight on his soft hair._

 _She didn't know what possessed her, except that she had little control over what she did next. Sitting besides him, touching his arm, she turned to face him._

 _"I think you're quite a catch," she whispered._

 _She closed the gap between them, and had he not turned his head, her lips would have met his completely. He hadn't expected her move, his inhale of surprise told her that much, and when her lips touched the corner of his mouth he shivered. She lingered there._

 _When she did pull away, she knew she had kissed him for a second too long. The look on his face said as much. His shock. She stood from him, steady herself by placing a hand on his shoulder. Walking away, back towards the door, she needed some space._

 _"Come inside, Charlie," she said, as if nothing had happened, "if you're going to be lonely, at least do it with some company."_

 _He rose. She could see his outline in the dark. The tension bubble had not yet been released. She stepped aside as he walked up to the door. She found it difficult to look him in the eyes._

 _"It is nearly midnight," he said._

 _They quietly returned to the party._

Elsie shivered. The memory haunted her. The guilt brought a fresh wave of butterflies. The bubble of tension had never really disappeared, she had simply learned to ignore it.

"Elsie?" Charlie's voice brought her back to the present. He stood in the doorway of her bedroom mouth agape. He clearly hadn't expected to find her in the dress.

She watched his eyes roam up and down her body. _Elevator eyes_. That's what Anna had called it when a man scans a woman up and down. Not being able to watch him take her in like that, Elsie turned back to the mirror. She could see the blush starting to creep up her chest. And knew he was going to see it soon too.

"You look stun -" he caught himself. Standing straighter he corrected himself, his voice low, "you look beautiful."

The blush had practically consumed her face, "thank you."

Pushing the memory away, and the physical feelings it evoked, she joked, "I haven't even done my hair yet."

"Yes, well," he appeared incapable of looking away from her.

She noted the bottle in his hand, "what do you have there?"

"What?" he looked down, "oh, yes, this just arrived from Corked, a new cab on the market. I thought we might drink a bit before heading out."

"If you wish," she said. She was hoping he would leave soon, the dress had grown suffocating under his gaze.

"Right, well," he turned to leave and she started to breath normally, then he turned back, "I was calling you, you must have been miles away, I said your name three times, I started to get worried."

"Oh?" the blush returned, "You're right, I was off with the fairies."

"I see," his gaze was much too intense, "well then, I'll be downstairs. We can drink this and head out whenever you're ready."

She nodded and he left.

She was free to breath again.

* * *

 _Questions? Comments? Concerns? Fill in the box below :)_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you for all your reviews!_

* * *

The staircase: an embodiment of princesses and princes, dances and balls. Elsie glared at the staircase as she made her way down. Charlie was already at the bottom and she could imagine him looking up at her as she descended.

She wasn't a princess. Nor did she ever want to be.

Biting her lip, she turned on the final landing and started walking down. Just as she had predicted, he stood at the bottom, checking his watch. Two glasses of wine stood standing on the table besides him.

He glanced up. His brow shuttered to his forehead as he watched her walk down the stairs.

She paused half way down, her princess metaphor drifting away as she took note of what he was wearing. Handsome. That was the first word to spring to her mind. Sharply dressed and handsome, he wore a grey suit with a midnight blue button-down shirt. No tie. She swallowed sharply.

Midnight blue.

They would have matched.

She pushed the thought from her mind. He hadn't meant for them to match, of that she was certain.

"You changed," he said as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

She nodded, "I did. That dress isn't quite for me."

Instead, she had chosen an old green one. Something she had worn to a posh friend's funeral once. It was festive enough in color and hid some of her less-than-sexy parts.

"I liked that dress," he said, then quickly added, "You look beautiful in green as well."

She smiled. He had been married for eight years and she figured he had learned a few things during that time, one of which was clearly to complement regardless of sartorial choice.

"Thank you," she said, picking up a glass of wine, "you look quite handsome yourself."

He hummed his response and they clinked glasses. They drank in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. He checked his watch again and suggested they head out before they were late.

She pulled on a dark brown coat and frowned. She looked like a tree. Shaking the thought away she followed him out the door determined to enjoy Beryl's party.

They had decided to walk, Beryl's house being just a few blocks away. She took his arm, tottering slightly in her heels. There was a chill in the air. The wind had died leaving behind a quiet night.

They walked quietly for a block when Charlie broke the silence, "It's just," he sighed, "we would have matched."

She tripped in surprise. "Matched?"

He nodded, glanced at her, and then looked quickly away. His face held a light pink twinge as though he had been caught out.

"I suppose we would have," she said, "It wasn't right, not for tonight."

"Wasn't right that we…?" he asked.

"No, no, the dress wasn't right," she clarified, "perhaps some other time."

"Perhaps."

She pursed her lips. A change of subject was due but the only things she could think to discuss were how long she was going to stay and whether or not he had found a job prospect. Casting around for something else to talk about she settled on silence. She wanted to avoid another fight.

They arrived at Beryl's promptly at a quarter after nine. Many guests had already arrived. A thumping bass drum and distorted guitar reached their ears as Charlie rang the bell. Elsie smiled: The Clash, Beryl's favorite band.

Bert answered with a sway and a large smile. They must have started drinking early. He took their coats and ushered them into the house. Smells greeted them: various pies and pastries, sweet and savory alike. A large curry sat in the middle of the food table. Samoas huddled together in a large bowl and were quickly devoured by party goers.

Charlie's brow rose in excitement as he eyed the rack of wines. Stepping away from her, he wandered to look over the labels. Left to her own devices she drifted around the perimeter of the party looking for someone she knew.

She jumped when Beryl grabbed her from behind in an awkward hug, "Elsie!"

"Beryl," Elsie responded, her voice choked by Beryl's strong embrace, "you're squashing me."

"Sorry, love!" Beryl released her, and looked her over, "I suppose you could look worse."

"Well I certainly feel better now," Elsie rolled her eyes.

"I told him, you know," Beryl continued on, "I told that fucktard, 'you're not invited, you show your ugly mug and I'll pull grandad's shotgun off the wall!'"

Elsie gave her friend a half smile, "I didn't think Joe would show up tonight, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"I still can't believe him, Elsie!" Beryl's brow furrowed, "You two were so good together. Sometimes I thought you were what Bert and I should strive for. You certainly seemed to argue less."

A memory stirred in Elsie's mind, "It's funny you should say that."

"Why? Was I wrong? Did you two not get along? Was it all a front?"

"No," Elsie put a hand on her friend's shoulder to calm her, "but I remember, before Joe agreed to marry me he said that I was a good match because he knew if we ever divorced we could do so amicably."

"What?!"

"I know, I know, in retrospect it seems a shitty thing to say," Elsie said, "but at the time I understood. We understood each other enough to respond kindly even in the worse situations. And for a long time, that worked quite well."

"You had better not make this divorce amicable!" Beryl nearly shouted.

Elsie grabbed her friend and pulled her further to the side, "No need to shout my life story! And besides, I'd rather it be amicable. It's faster. There's no need to drag it on and on."

"Elsie - you had better get everything from that bastard," Beryl said, "that's all I'm saying."

"Can we leave it now?" Elsie sighed, looking around to see where Charlie had got to, "I'd rather enjoy the rest of the party and not discuss Joe again. Can you do that? For me?"

"Of course, love, of course. He's not worth the breath anyway."

"Thank you," Elsie sighed, then added, "You don't by chance know a woman, surname Denker?"

"Doesn't ring a bell, why?" Beryl asked.

"Oh, nothing really, I hadn't thought it was you anyway." Elsie mumbled.

"I'm not sure I'm following here."

"Never you mind, it's nothing. Really." Elsie scanned the crowd again and found Charlie talking with a young woman wearing a short black dress. She couldn't tell if he was uncomfortable or if it was the knot in her stomach that was making her think he was uncomfortable.

"I see Charlie's met Ethel. She's our new hire. A bit immature, but she gets the job done." Beryl explained.

"She looks rather young," Elsie agreed.

Beryl chuckled, "Rumor has it, that's how Charlie like's 'em."

"Beryl!" Elsie chided. The knot twisted in her stomach, "that was years ago!"

"True, but he is a man, isn't he?"

Her friend was looking at her funny and Elsie decided she didn't want to press the issue further. Her stomach hurt to follow that line of thinking, and she wasn't entirely sure why.

"You and Bert are up for catering our first day of shooting, yes?" Elsie changed the subject.

"Of course, love! Just give us the schedule, you know we'll be there." Beryl smiled wryly, "I won't have Ethel there if you like."

"What?" Elsie glared at her friend, "I don't care who you bring, just make sure you make your Eton mess. That should calm his Lordship's nerves."

"You're calling Robert 'his lordship' now?"

"Now that I'm working with him and he's acting an ass, yes."

Turning back to see Charlie still in deep discussion with Ethel, that pink twinge returned to his face, Elsie exhaled sharply, "I'm going to go rescue him. He looks uncomfortable."

"If you say so," Beryl said. That funny look had returned, and Elsie rolled her eyes at her friend.

As Elsie crossed through the rest of the party-goers she tried her best to be objective. Charlie and Ethel stood about arms length apart. He was blushing slightly, but it didn't look like he was flirting. Yes, she decided, the blush was due to embarrassment.

She tripped as she reached them, catching herself on Charlie's arm. "Oph, there you are."

Ethel excused herself, touching Charlie lightly on his other arm. The young woman's rolled eyes did not go unnoticed by Elsie. She watched the Ethel walk away. When she turned back to Charlie she was surprised, and pleased, to note his eyes were trained on her and not on Ethel's swaying bottom.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Hmm? Yes, yes, of course," her body temperature was rising again and she cursed inwardly, "I'm just feeling a tad hot, was thinking about getting some fresh air. Would you care to join?"

"Certainly."

They pushed through the other guests and found their way to the patio doors. Stepping out into the cold air, Elsie let go of the breath she'd been holding. For a moment they stared up at the stars. She wondered if he knew the constellations.

Doubt began to creep into her mind and she bit her lip. Turning to him, she hesitated as she watched him smile at the stars. Debating quickly, her doubt won over and she nudged him with her arm, trying to keep her tone light, "I hope I hadn't interrupted anything."

"You mean Ethel?" Charlie asked, bringing his gaze back to earth, "No, no, she was just telling me about a new way to make custard. Apparently Beryl isn't fond of different techniques."

Elsie nodded, then continued quickly, "It's just - Joe once said you had a fling, or preferred younger women or some such -"

She stopped when she caught how red he'd become.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked back at the stars, "I had a fling with an intern. Yes. I'm not proud of that, you know."

"If she was into it -"

"She wanted my money," he explained, "Which we both now know was rather foolish of her. And of me. I was a fool. I suppose it was fun while it lasted, but there you go. I'm not entirely sure why I became known for this 'younger woman' thing."

"People talk," Elsie shrugged, "Besides, I've always pushed you to get out more, as long as everyone is consenting, I suppose the age, up to a point, doesn't really matter."

She wasn't sure why she was telling him that, except perhaps to ease her own nerves. Yes, Charlie could date, shag, whomever he wanted.

Charlie sighed, "It's odd, really, because most of the women I've been with were older than me." .

"Alice was older?"

"Only by a year," he said, "but still."

"I'm trying to remember the other women you dated," she said.

"Well, Martha was the intern. And then there was Cassie, she was four years older, and Julia, three years older, and," he blushed again, "Janet. She was one year older as well."

Elsie ran through her rolodex of memories. Squinting through the trees she could vaguely put faces to the names he was saying, except the intern, and except -

"Who's Janet?" She asked.

He shook his head, "I'd rather not."

"Oh come on, Charlie," She shoved his arm, "I've know you for how long? And only now do I get to hear about Janet?"

"It's rather embarrassing."

Elsie rolled her eyes, "It's only me."

He grumbled for a moment, "She was the first…"

They stared at each other. She waited for him to explain. His eyes grew wide as if that was explanation enough.

Realization dawned, "You mean, she was your first. The first person you shagged."

"You don't have to say it like that."

"Go on then," she smiled, loving how open he was being with her, "you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."

"Mine is worse," he said.

"You don't know that." Elsie countered, "For most women the first time isn't exactly all flowers and unicorns. I'm guessing you at least got off."

He nodded, his blush consuming his face, "well, yes, but still."

They stood in silence for a moment. She knew if she waited just long enough he would open up to her.

"Oh alright." He said finally, "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"We've been friends for over twenty five years, it's not going to change the way I look at you."

"Right, well," he struggled, "She was in the year above mine at school. I must have been fifteen or sixteen. I didn't know it at the time, but she was a bit of a tart."

Elsie giggled. It was rare for Charlie to use words like that: tart. She giggled again.

"Anyway," he continued, "She asked me out and we drove to this - this field. We - you know - we kissed for a bit, and then - well, she ran out of the car."

Elsie gasped, "ran out? Just like that. Snogging and then boom - gone?"

"Just like that," he said, "She ran and looked back, said something about chasing her. So I did, naturally. She ran into this wooded area, and I couldn't find her for the life of me. And then, well, I started to find other things."

"Other things?"

"Mmhmm," he nodded, "the skirt she was wearing, then the shirt - all on the ground you see. When I finally found her she was in nothing but her bra, laughing at me."

Elsie laughed, "I'm surprised you didn't just run away."

"I'm surprised I didn't just run away!" He joined her laughter, "but I was a teenager, and I was quite ready to - well, you know - and then we did it and the next day she told me I wasn't her type and I was crushed."

"Oh, Charlie," she touched his shoulder sympathetically, "that is quite harsh."

"Like I said, I didn't know it then, but she was a tart. Shagged the entire school or some such nonsense." He rolled his eyes at himself.

She bit back a giggle, hearing Charlie say 'shagged' was equally as funny as 'tart'.

"Alright," he said, "your turn."

"Oh my word, I did say that didn't I?" she chuckled, "well, you were correct, yours was worse."

"Go on then," he smirked.

"His name was Joe - but not Joe Burns," she smiled wanly, "As it turns out I've only ever been with Joes. Joe Moseley. He was a year younger than me and clearly had such a crush. I - well I felt a bit sorry for him really, and everyone else was getting laid, except, it seemed, for me, so I started dating him and then one night I let him have a go at it in one of my father's barns."

"Your father's barn!"

"Yes, yes, I know, scandalous," Elsie laughed, "I can't say it was terribly pleasant. I certainly didn't get off. But it didn't put me off the whole concept either. We dated a while and then he moved away. Not long after that I met Joe, my Joe, and you know the rest of that story."

He nodded. She bit her lip, knowing full well she had said 'my Joe'. She hadn't meant to. He wasn't hers anymore. An awkwardness crept between them, and she knew Charlie was struggling to find something to say.

"I found him, you know," She tried to keep it light-hearted.

"Found who?"

"Joe Moseley." She explained, "On Facebook. He might not have been great in the sack when we were young, but it sounds like he figured it out alright. He's got five children."

"Five!"

"I know. He's married to a woman, Pamela, or Phyllis, something like that," she said, "they seem quite happy."

"Doesn't everybody on Facebook?" He laughed.

"Yes, I suppose so."

They stood quietly. At some point during their conversation she found him standing next to her, arms touching. She shivered. It was rather cold out. Charlie pulled off his suit coat and threw it over her shoulders.

'Thank you," she said.

He nodded. He went back to looking at the stars. The trees held her vision but she was really off in her own world. She had only ever been with Joes. Two men. Maybe Joe had been right, maybe they had married too young, too early. She shook her head. She didn't want to think about him, not tonight.

"You two popsicles are gonna freeze out there!" Beryl's voice broke through the silence.

"Aren't popsicles supposed to freeze?" Charlie asked. Elsie chuckled.

"Come on in, I'm putting out the rice pudding," Beryl walked away from the patio door, leaving it open for them to follow.

Before they reached the door, the return to the party, Elsie touched Charlie's arm, halting him, "I wanted to thank you."

"For what?" He asked.

"For coming tonight."

"I'm not sure I've ever missed a year," he said.

"Yes, but I'm glad to have you here," she continued, still trying to lighten the mood, "at least I've got somebody to kiss now."

He frowned, his jaw clenched, "You know, you don't have too. I never wanted anyone to feel obligated."

"You're shunning tradition?" She joked, "You. You're -"

"You know what I mean." He said.

She nodded and said quietly, "I enjoy our little traditions."

They were standing close. She could feel his breath on her cheeks. She wanted to tell him something, it was on the tip of her tongue. But her mind returned to that memory, and she wondered if he was thinking about it too. They had been on this very patio when she -

"Come on," she said, forcing her voice to be fuller, "It's another hour or so and then I'll give you your twenty-first kiss."

She headed into the party, and resolutely ignored his mumbled, "twenty-second."

He did remember.

The party thronged as the beat changed from punk rock to pop eighties music. Elsie sniggered at the thought that Beryl must have won the coin toss and had been allowed to choose the music. She found Isobel and Rishi dancing to Cyndi Lauper. Charlie brought her into the thick of things and they danced together too.

As the count down began, Elsie's eyes found Ethel standing next to a gentleman she didn't know. Charlie stood by Elsie's side, champagne glass held at the ready.

"10, 9, 8…" the whole party shouted in unison. Elsie felt the familiar butterflies return to her stomach. Butterflies of guilt she had always called them. She had them every time she had kissed Charlie on New Years. But now, really, there should be no guilt. She was free to kiss whomever she pleased.

"4, 3, 2 …"

Everyone shouted Happy New Year together. The radio blasted Auld Lange Syne and all the various couples locked lips. Ethel pulled her gentleman to her rather forcefully. Isobel and Rishi smiled as they kissed. Bert dipped Beryl.

She turned to find Charlie looking at her. He offered her a sad smile. She returned it, letting it blossom into a show of gratitude. She pushed herself onto her tipy-toes, tilting again in her heels. He leaned his head down and gently captured her lips with his.

It was short. She pulled away, looked away, not quite wanting to see what his face held. She didn't want to be pitied. And it was hard to look him in the eye when the butterflies in her stomach were now wildly beating against her heart.

When she did glance at him, she saw nothing but care cross his eyes. She touched his arm, feeling slightly dizzy and not remembering a time when a kiss had made her feel dizzy.

His hand touched his chest, and he swallowed sharply.

"Are you alright?" She asked, pushing the butterflies away.

"Yes," he said, "curry."

She nodded. He must not have taken his pills. She watched him touch his chest again and knew he was fighting his acid reflux. That curry dish Beryl had supplied had been quite spicy.

"Come on, let's get you home."

They donned their coats, wished Beryl and Bert goodbye and headed back into the cold. She kept up a brisk pace. He belched once or twice and apologized profusely when he did.

Upon finding herself stood on his doorsteps, she hesitated. There had been something she had wanted to say and all the alcohol in her brain pushed her to say it now.

"Charlie," she said, pausing him from opening the door, "Can I say something?"

"Yes, of course."

"It's just," she swallowed, "I never tell you how happy I am that you're my friend. I love you, dear. I hope you know that."

Pain crossed his face, and Elsie grabbed the key from his hand, "Come on, I'll get you your antacids."

They crossed the threshold. After making sure Charlie had his pills and they both had drank some water, she kissed his cheek goodnight and spent the beginning of 2009 alone in her room at Charlie's house.

 **End of Part 1**

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 _I'd love to know what you're wondering? What questions do you have? Leave a review! They make my day!  
_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Whoa! Thank you so much for all your reviews! They make me want to post faster, although the time it takes to write doesn't always jive with that desire. I am inching my way into the second busiest time of the year for my work but I think I found a way to make sure I continue to post fairly regularly if not always as quickly as I've been._

 _Reminder: this fic is rated M. There may or may not be a bit in here that's a tad NSFW. You've been warned._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Part 2**

 _ **24 January 2009**_

Anna's text had Elsie worried.

She sat on Charlie's sofa. Her laptop consumed her lap. She kept glancing at her phone on the coffee table, but as of the past ten minutes she saw no further updates from the young woman. She bit her lip.

Glancing back at her laptop and the edits she was supposed to be making, she jumped when her phone rang. She grabbed at it quickly, missing the number on the front.

"Anna?" She said.

"Eh, no, beg your pardon," a male voice said on the other line, "This is Richard, eh, Richard Grey. I am looking to speak with Elsie Burns."

"Speaking," She said, racking her brains as to recall who Richard Grey was and trying to quell the disappointment that it wasn't Anna. And then, it clicked, "Oh! Lord Merton."

"The very same," he chuckled.

"What can I do for you?" She asked.

"Oh, I am glad that this number worked. I hope you don't mind. I had luncheon with Robert earlier this week and he passed along your mobile number. We discussed your documentary - I remembered how fun it was to interview with you. He mentioned you were divorced and he did say what a lovely job you were doing with his family and the documentary." He spoke very fast.

Elsie nodded, unsure what any of that had to do with anything. She ignored his mention of her upcoming divorce and said simply, "Thank you for passing that along."

"You're very welcome."

Silence.

Elsie waited, "Was that why you called?"

He cleared his throat, "Dear me, I'm afraid I'm not too good at this sort of thing. It's just - you remember my wife, Ada?"

How could she forget? That wretched woman taught Elsie that she could work with anyone, even the most stubborn, disrespectful, and horrible upper class Baroness in England. Trial by fire that first documentary had been.

"Yes, I do," Elsie said, trying to keep the distaste from her voice.

"She passed three years ago." Lord Merton said, "Sad as that all is, one cannot dwell on these things. No, we must move forward in our endeavors…"

Elsie pulled the phone away to look at the clock. She wondered when Lord Merton would get to his point.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner sometime this week, seeing as you're a free woman and all now." Lord Merton finished.

Her body stilled as his words washed over her. Richard Grey - Lord Merton - a bloody Baron was asking her out on a date! She shook her head trying to find the appropriate words.

"Lord Merton," she began.

"Please, call me Richie." He said.

"Richie," she conceded, "I - I don't know what to say."

"Oh, a simple 'yes' would do. You would make an old man quite happy."

"You're very kind," she swallowed, "but I'm not sure I'm truly as available as you think I am."

"No?" His voice cracked, "You're already seeing someone else, then?"

"No, no, not at all," Elsie moved to set her laptop on the coffee table, "It's just, the divorce isn't finalized and -"

"I can wait. All that pish-posh won't take all that long, now will it?"

"Listen," She said, trying to stop him from speaking, "I'm simply not ready. And I truly don't know when I will be. I hope you can understand."

He was silent again. She held her breath.

"My dear, of course I understand," he said.

She exhaled.

"I won't pester you," he continued, "just know Richie Grey is interested whenever you find yourself ready."

"Thank you, again, that is very kind." She tried very hard not to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Of course, have a wonderful afternoon."

"Yes, thank you. You as well." She nodded to herself and then pressed the end call button.

She threw her phone on the coffee table and fell back against the sofa pillows. Rubbing her face, she startled when she heard Charlie's voice.

"You look ready for a break." He said.

"Richard Grey just asked me out," she said, surprising herself with her own admission.

"Did he?" Charlie made his way to the sofa and sat perched on the edge next to her. A strange tension filled his body as he asked, "and did you accept?"

"What? No, of course not. I'm hardly ready for all that." She said. She wasn't entirely certain why she felt she had to be so insistent that she hadn't accepted Lord Merton's invitation.

"When was the last time you'd seen him, anyway?" Charlie wondered, tension easing from his body.

"He was at Robert and Cora's Christmas bash, wasn't he?" Elsie thought back, "and then, oh, he popped by Downton last week while we were filming. I don't think we even spoke, just waved hello."

She waved her hand as she spoke. Charlie mulled over her words.

"I suppose, if he's going on looks alone, he's chosen wisely." He said, "imagine if he discovered you were smart and charming as well."

Elsie rolled her eyes and tried to keep the blush from her checks, "oh hush."

"Anyway, I came in to see if you'd like a sandwich and some soup for lunch," he said, "Something warm on this rather dreary day."

Taking a glance out the window, Elsie noted the grey clouds casting a gloom across the sky. She nodded at Charlie's suggestion, "that would fit the bill rather nicely."

Her phone rang again. Elsie checked the caller this time, once again hoping for Anna. It was Beryl.

"You're quite the popular lady," Charlie chuckled.

"This might be a bit," she said, nodding to her phone, "hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, I'll keep your lunch warm for you whenever you're ready." He stood from the sofa and made his way into the kitchen.

Elsie answered Beryl's call with her usual, "Beryl?"

"As if you didn't know it was me," said the chef on the other end of the line, "calling you, love, to confirm the plant schedule."

"Yes, of course," Elsie stood and started wandering around Charlie's living room, "How long are you going to be gone for this time?"

"Just for a week. It'll be good for Daisy to get some warmth into her bones," Beryl said, "You won't need to come round too often, just Wednesday if you can. I've got a neighbor taking care of the mail."

"Aren't I a neighbor?" Elsie teased.

"Yes, but this neighbor happens to be right next door and home all the time," Beryl ignored Elsie's teasing.

"Right then, do I need to do anything special with the plants?" Elsie ran her hand along one of the stem's of Charlie' plants. She had a green thumb but not much cause to use it in recent years.

"No, you just water 'em, - oh, Bert's telling me to tell you to talk to them," Beryl said, then shouted, "Why in heaven's does she have to talk to them?"

Elsie laughed at her friend. Smiling, she could easily see Beryl standing in the kitchen shouting down the long hallway to the garage where Bert would be.

"Anyway, talk to them or don't, I don't think he'll know if you did," Beryl finished.

"Right," Elsie agreed.

"How are you holding up, love?" Beryl asked, "I hate leaving when I know you'll be needing some friends around."

"Italy will be wonderful, don't you fret about me!" Elsie said, "I'm doing - well, I'm doing alright."

"Yeah?"

"Yes and no," Elsie sighed, "We met with the lawyer. Joe's giving me the house, and our finances have always been separate, so he'll keep what's his and I'll keep what's mine. If I'm honest I don't really want the house, just going to sell it."

"You only have one lawyer?" Beryl said, her annoyance palpable.

"Yes. We only have one lawyer." Elsie tried to keep her voice even, "Neither of us wants a big fuss. This lady knows what she's on about. We've signed all the papers, and now we just wait for the judge to finalize it all."

"I'm glad she didn't make you wait it out - six months or whatever."

"Me too. But Joe confessed to the adultery - so technically we have grounds for a speedy ending." Elsie sighed, "Speedy beginning, speedy ending, and nothing but memories in between."

"Oh, Elsie, you mustn't talk like that! He's the biggest jerk in the world and we both know it!"

Elsie smiled at the word 'jerk', her friend had used much more colorful language in the past. She began to walk towards the staircase, feeling her emotions gathering speed. She didn't want Charlie to walk out of the kitchen to find her crying on the phone.

"You've got to start moving on, Els," Beryl continued, "start finding other things to keep your mind off it. Unless, of course, you've found something to keep your mind off it."

"I should tell you - Lord Merton just called and asked me to dinner." Elsie smiled, glad to move away from discussion of Joe.

"No! He didn't! Well, I'll be. And did you say yes?" Beryl asked.

"No, but I suppose -"

"Ah, course," Beryl said, "You wouldn't want to do that, not when you're shagging Charlie."

"I beg your pardon?" Elsie paused at the bottom of the staircase, not quite believing what she had heard.

"You know full well what I said."

"Beryl, I don't know where you get these ideas from but I -"

"Oh come off it, Elsie. He's a handsome man - perfectly single. You're a beautiful woman - who's now single. How are you two _not_ shagging? You live under the same roof!"

"I am not shagging Charlie!" Elsie cried.

The subject of their conversation poked his head out of the doorway of the kitchen, his brows raised into his hairline. Elsie felt her cheeks flush. Mouthing the word 'sorry', she ran up the stairs.

She whispered, "I am not shagging Charlie."

"This is one of those 'doth protest too much' moments, isn't it?" Beryl continued.

"No, it is not!" Elsie shut the door behind her, and leaned against it, glad to be secluded in her own room, "First of all, I'm not even ready to start dating yet - much less ready for - for - for _that_!"

"I just imagined you were! Didn't you say you rushed to him the night you found out about Joe? Didn't you say he comforted you? What was I supposed to think?"

"That he was being kind and nothing else!" Elsie ran her hand over her face, laughter starting, "I can't believe you thought we've been - that you thought Charlie and I were - this whole time!"

"Well maybe you should, might perk you up a bit."

Elsie rolled her eyes, "I don't think it works that way - not with friends, not when you're in the middle of a divorce, and certainly not with our dear Charlie."

"Then this Lord Merton fellow. You deserve a good shag, Els," Beryl's kind smile was apparent in her voice. Elsie jumped when her friend then started shouting, "Bloody hell Bert! What is that smell?!"

"I think I'll let you go," said Elsie as she imagined Beryl barreling down the hallway only to find Bert having done something to their car.

"What? Yes, we'll talk more when I get back," Beryl said, her voice rushed.

Hitting the end call button on her phone, Elsie slid onto her bed, sitting perched on the edge as she stared at her hands. Shag Charlie. She chuckled. The entire conversation had left her warm - a familiar warmth she was beginning to associate with being old.

Sighing, she twisted round cracking her back and gritting her teeth at the sweat on her body. Boob sweat. She hated that. The thought of taking lunch with Charlie while she was sweating from her tits felt far from being a good house guest. Quickly she stripped off her clothes and headed to her shower, hoping to make it quick and that her soup would still be warm.

She smiled. It would be warm. Charlie would see to that.

Stepping over the edge of the tub, she hissed as the cool water hit her feet. She wanted it cool. Feeling warm was getting old. As her body gradually got used to the cascading water, she let her thoughts drift.

 _You're shagging Charlie_. She shook her head. She could remember the last time she and Joe had sex. It had been sometime in October. They had used the last of her lube. She realized she hadn't ever gone off to buy more.

Had she known?

Two months without sex, and it hadn't bothered her. Had some intuitive part of her known they were coming to an end? She shook her head again. Ridiculous. She had just been busy. Getting Downton, going to different award ceremonies, her sister visiting, everything had happened at once. Yes, she thought, she had been too busy.

Too busy to realize her marriage was failing.

How morose.

Perhaps Beryl was right, maybe she did need a good shag - perk her up.

 _Shagging Charlie_. She laughed again.

She hesitated. She had meant for it to be a quick shower, but now as her thoughts progressed she considered a different idea. One she hadn't had in many years.

If she wasn't going to shag anyone, then why not pleasure herself? It would just be about getting the fantasy right. And while as a young teenager she'd had quite an imagination, it had been a long time since she had bothered taking herself there.

Closing her eyes she tried to think about Joe. Naked Joe. He could get her off so easily. He knew all the buttons to press and in what order to have her moaning. She imagined his hands creeping up her body, the light tickle against her abdomen and then his hands cupping her breasts.

She sighed. No. The warmth spreading from her core was there, but his face was now tied up with other things: Marla, divorce, pure anger.

Still, her body pushed her to continue. She moved her own hand up past her stomach. Joe's hands turned into Charlie's. Charlie's hands cupped her breast, stroking gently at the sides, messaging.

She moaned. Yes, this fantasy would do nicely.

Letting her other hand drop to her middle, she worked her way down, teasing herself. Her top hand trailed across her chest, landing on her other breast. She kneaded herself -

Her eyes flew open.

 _No._

She pressed again. Fear flooded her body, cold taking over her heat.

 _No._

Moving her fingers around, she used a different angle. Tenderly, she pressed her breast again.

She shivered.

She had found a lump.

* * *

 _A/N: I know! I know! Leave a review and tell me about it..._

 _For those who are overly worried, Mrs. Hughes' cancer arch ends the same way that Elsie's will, so don't worry too much._


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! I love the speculation and curiosity! I love hearing what you're thinking! Also, welcome Grammar Police! Always happy to have some constructive criticism!_

 _For those who've read my other stories, I completely plagiarized myself in this one. Sorry about that, hope you don't mind. My past self certainly doesn't mind._

 _This was too fun to write. Enjoy!_

* * *

She spent the rest of the day avoiding Charlie whenever she could. They ate their sandwiches in relative silence. Neither could look the other in the eye. She briefly wondered if he was thinking about her conversation with Beryl. If he had been bothered by the concept of her shagging him. Or if the thought had peaked an interest in doing such things.

But at the same time, she found she couldn't really care.

If it was a lump, if she hadn't completely lost her mind, then what did it matter who she was shagging or wasn't shagging? What did the documentary matter? What did any of it matter in the end?

Dinner was a silent affair. After spending the day automatically making edits to the narration, she had little energy left to keep up conversation. A part of her felt bad. Charlie had been so kind to her throughout the entire month. They had even managed to keep their arguments to a minimum. He deserved better from her.

Which, she reasoned, was why she was taking dinner with him in the first place. When what she really wanted was to be alone. To be alone with her thoughts, to come to some understanding of what she had discovered in the shower, that was what she needed most. And at the same time, she couldn't fathom the idea. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want it to be real.

Her computer lived in her lap most of the evening. Her work, ever able to distract her, made for a great coping mechanism. When she was working she didn't have to talk with Charlie, she didn't have to think about what she found, and she could be alone and sitting next to someone at the same time.

Charlie went up around ten. She said goodnight, only to find her voice caked over having not used it for half a day. Before he left, he made an odd motion, as if to touch her, but then changed his mind at the last second. She rolled her eyes at herself. She had been so quiet the whole day. He could be intuitive at times. Did he know something was wrong?

Her bed beckoned her around one in the morning. She slammed her laptop closed.

She slept in fits and starts that night. Her dreams disappeared the moment she woke. It felt like night had never left.

Another grey day.

It was late morning when she finally sat up. Her nightgown hung around her shoulders, the top stretched, she could see the swell of her breasts in the mirror. If she looked carefully, could she see it? Was it visible? If she had been shagging Charlie would he have noticed it?

Standing, she walked to the mirror. Head tilted to one side she squinted. Nothing. It certainly wasn't visible. Was it even there?

She didn't want to touch. Didn't want to confirm.

She needed Joe. He would touch her, confirm for her.

Sighing, she closed her eyes. Needed was not the word she wanted right there. She didn't want to need anyone.

Her mother's face crossed her vision. She shivered. Yes, having her ma wrap her arms around her, that would be the only thing Elsie could imagine needing right now.

But her mother was dead and buried. Two years now.

She wiped at her eyes, her tears limited. Her hormones, it seemed, had decided to take a vacation.

Biting her lip and gathering her courage she attempted to bring her three fingers to that spot, just to the left of where her breast met her chest. Her courage failed her. She couldn't bring herself to confirm the worst. She needed someone - someone else to tell her it was there.

A doctor.

She shook her head. No. That would be too real. And what if it wasn't there? Did she want to discover her mental faculties were gone in front of a doctor?

Her thoughts turned to Anna. A text had come in the middle of the night: Lance Corporal John Bates would be landing in Afghanistan sometime the next morning.

She couldn't possibly lay another worry on Anna. The poor girl was nervous enough as it was.

Beryl. She could ask Beryl to check. Beryl would know what to do, how to feel for - but could she really wait an entire week for Beryl to return?

Cancer. The only thing she really knew about it was that time shouldn't be wasted. What if it had spread in a week?

She shook her head, violently, her brain became angry. The headache didn't help assuage her fears. It wasn't cancer. She didn't know that yet.

Charlie.

She almost laughed.

Could she really ask Charlie?

 _Charlie, dear, would you mind awfully: Touch my breast for me, please._

She did laugh out loud.

No. She couldn't image how she could possibly ask him.

Her laughter had brought her back to some middle ground. She found herself leaning into ambiguity and a certain lack of care.

Finding a large blue button down, a shirt she often used for housework, she threw it on without a bra. Her breasts had betrayed her, they didn't deserve the embrace of a brassiere. A pair of her softer jeans filled out the rest of her outfit. She left her room to find Charlie.

Standing at the top of the stairs she paused. Her bare toes curled into the soft carpet. She pursed her lips and considered the choice she had just made. Without a bra, going down stairs would be a tad uncomfortable. She swallowed. She didn't want to touch herself. Hesitating a moment, she crossed her arms and pressed against herself. She walked as lightly as she could down the stairs.

She found Charlie fiddling with his record player in the living room.

The side doors of the media cabinet were open. He stood with his torso in the middle of the doors, his face hidden behind the glass. Grumbles met her ears. She held her hands in front of her, unsure why she had wanted his company.

"You sound stuck," she said.

He jumped, bumping his head on the top of the cabinet. She bit back a chortle, and pursed her lips in sympathy. He rubbed his head, glancing at her. _Elevator eyes_. Just as quickly he returned to the blasted machine he was trying to make play sound. She was starting to forget her reasons for not wearing a bra.

"Anna had some fellow come and fix this as a Christmas present," he said, "But I can't make heads or tails as to what I'm supposed to do. What do I turn on first? Why can't I just press a button and it plays music?"

"I suppose there's a manual?" She said, hoping to be helpful.

"Of course, the manual, why hadn't I thought of that," he said sarcastically.

He glanced at her again and saw her face fall. She turned away with a shrug.

"Sorry," he said, "I'm just flustered."

"Of course," she began to move towards the sofa. Her laptop still sat on the coffee table. Working - that would help make her numb again.

"I had an interview this morning," he said.

She paused, returning to him, "I thought they were next week."

"They were - are." He agreed, flicking a switch on the player, "this one came out of the blue. Fellow texted me, asked to do one over the computer. It went - horrible doesn't quite cut it. He had to walk me through turning on the camera on my computer and then - it was just horrible."

"What was it for?" She asked.

"That was the worst of it: he wanted me to come in to consult on his business. Five hundred pounds for a month's work." He scoffed, "How low can I get? And he was young. His suit crumpled. I doubt he's slept in weeks. Came off a bit of a mess. But then, I suppose I did too."

She felt for him. She really did. She was just finding it difficult to express that.

"I can't keep this up," he sighed in defeat, "I'm going to have to tell Anna soon. She called about a textbook she needs. A hundred and fifty pounds. I don't think I'm going to have a hundred and fifty pounds by the end of the month."

"Let me get it for her," the words left her mouth before she had really thought about it.

"No, don't be silly," he waved her off.

But it felt good to help, and she couldn't ignore that, she held onto it, vice like, "no, really, Charlie. I - I'm never going to have kids of my own. Anna's as close as I've got. Let me help her. Please."

The word 'please', said so softly, furrowed his brow. She watched his jaw clench as he considered her.

"I suppose you are her 'mumzi'."

They shared a small smile, each remembering the moment the baby Anna had christened her that.

"Thank you," She said, "And my offer still stands: give me a lease and I'll sign it."

"No," he turned back to the record player, pressing more buttons, determined to ignore her request.

"You're being silly now," she said, "at a certain point I'm going to become less of a house guest and more of a roommate, and I'd rather not be a burden to you."

"You are not, nor could you ever be, a burden to me," he moved to look at her so quickly she worried he'd hit his head again.

"It would ease my mind to know I was contributing," she continued. Arguing with him helped almost as much as caring for him - made her feel more alive than she had in the past twelve hours.

"No," he reiterated, and gave her a pointed look as if to say the conversation was over.

"Fine," she rolled her eyes, "I hope you've considered getting another lodger then? You've certainly got enough rooms. You could probably take on two lodgers, plus myself and Anna."

He sighed, "yes, I've considered it. I'm still thinking on it."

He pressed a button and a loud squeak burst through the house. Elsie slammed her hands against her ears. He pressed several buttons at once and the squeak disappeared.

"I should probably learn to work this before I take on anyone else," he added.

As he spoke he waved his hand at the machines, catching his pinky finger on the edge of one of the door jams. She saw the blood before he was able to say, 'ouch', and rushed to him.

She took his hand in her own, holding it gently aloft. His other hand he held underneath, keeping the drops from meeting his pristine floors.

"Upstairs," she said.

She tugged him to the main bathroom. Pulling out bandaids and some antiseptic, she ignored his blustering 'I'm fine's' and began to dress his, albeit small, wound.

It didn't take too long before he simply let her go about pressing the gooey antibiotic lotion to his cut. Gently she pulled the bandaid around his smallest of fingers. Her hands worked quickly, deftly. She lingered a moment. She resisted the urge to place a small kiss - she wasn't his mother. And still she was captivated by the wrapped up cut. She ran her finger along his skin, slipping over the bandaid.

Visible. It had been so visible. Would still be if she hadn't wrapped it, cared for it. How easy it had been to care for something so visible. Something truly insignificant. How could it be that something invisible, something she could only feel inside her flesh, would be so much more significant?

"I'm okay, Els," Charlie said, breaking her reverie, "but are you okay?"

She bit her lip, releasing his hand. She chanced a glance at him. His face held worry and care and something she couldn't quite place.

He continued, "did you - I hope you spoke to Beryl about Joe. I'm sure seeing him was difficult."

She laughed. Actually laughed. She ignored the surprise on his face. Joe. That's what he was thinking. And for the first time in the last month, Joe had not been the foremost thing on her mind.

"No," she whispered, "it's not that."

He sucked in his lips. He looked like such a little boy, uncertain in the face of the most common of things. At the last second, she made up her mind.

She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, "I - I'm not sure where to begin."

A blush began to creep up her cheeks. No, no, she didn't want that. She knew this wasn't going to be easy. Glancing behind her, the long hallway beckoned her to run. Instead, she closed the bathroom door.

"Els?" Charlie's brow knit together, "what -"

"Just give me a second," she said, trying to pull herself together.

"We're the only ones here," he almost laughed, nodding to the door.

She nodded, putting her hands up, keeping him at arms length, "yes, I know. I just need us to be…secluded."

"Secluded?" His voice jumped pitch.

Her legs started to shake with nerves. Tension filled her stomach. A strange thought brushed by as she realized she was glad she hadn't worn a bra.

Hesitating, she raised her hands up to the top button of her shirt. She stared at his brown pullover, not daring to look in his eyes.

Realizing what her fingers were about to do, Charlie cautioned, "Els…"

She shook her head.

One button unbuttoned, then the next, as her fingers worked, her words flew out of her mouth, "I need you to do something for me. A favor."

He swallowed, "a favor?"

"Yes, a favor," she continued, her shirt now unbuttoned, exposing just enough of her chest for him to touch - she swallowed sharply. There was no going back now.

She chanced another glance at his face. His eyes were watering, staring resolutely at her face. She flushed to think how hard he was trying not to look at her partially exposed breasts. _Such a gentleman_.

"Put your fingers like this," she said, holding up her right hand, three fingers pulled together.

He did as she asked. She swallowed back a laugh as she imagined how they must look. The two of them cloistered in the bathroom, hands raised in some mock salute. They might have joined a cult.

"I need you to touch me," she said, then pointed to the top of her breast, "here."

His hand still raised, he licked his lips and said, "touch you?"

She nodded and raised her arm up just as the doctor had taught her. Her eyes urged him on.

He shifted his feet. He licked his lips once more and swallowed. Just when she thought he wasn't going to do it, his hand moved, slowly, hesitatingly, towards her.

She looked away. She didn't want to see his face, she didn't want to see it as he registered what he felt - if he felt anything.

When his cool fingers finally met her warm skin she closed her eyes. She shook her head. _No_. He was touching her chest, just above her breast. Too much of a gentleman. Taking her own hand, she moved his fingers lower. His intake of breath did not go unnoticed by her. She moved his fingers in small circles, adding pressure.

"Oh god," he said. His voice dropped.

She pulled her hand away, knowing he had felt it. His fingers worked against her flesh. She clenched her jaw, biting back tears.

"No," he said.

He pulled away, and just as quickly pulled her body into his, her face slammed into the softness of his pullover.

"God no," he continued.

Pressing her hands against his tummy, she pushed herself away, out of his embrace. She had to know for certain, had to hear him say the words.

"What did you feel?" She asked

"I - I -" he stuttered, "I remember, my dog, when I was a boy, the bump on her belly…"

His face held an apology as he recognized he was comparing her to a dog. She shook her head, not caring. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, and she willed them away. She threw her focus anywhere, everywhere else, on how her shirt was now unbuttoned to her belly, how exposed she was. His eyes stared sadly at her breasts.

Quickly, she buttoned herself up and turned to lean against the sink, her chin falling to her chest.

Confirmation.

It was there; invisible, but there.

A lump.

"Elsie?" He practically whispered, "Have you - you need to call a doctor, right away."

She nodded. "I know."

"Right now."

She nodded again. Her chin quivered. She opened the bathroom door, startling him. The long hallway seemed to compress. How odd to think the world was still going on outside of their little bathroom. She closed her eyes, holding tight to the door.

He pressed his fingers into the palm of her other hand. Instinctively she wrapped her hand around his. Her breath calmed enough to regain her focus.

His breath on her neck, "I'll put on the kettle."

She squeezed his fingers to show she had heard. They separated at the stairs, him to the kitchen, her to her bedroom and her phone.

When she returned to the living room she found him pacing. She fought against rolling her eyes.

"Tuesday afternoon," she said, "I've an appointment with Isobel at three."

"Why not tomorrow?" He asked.

"I don't know, I suppose they're booked."

"Shouldn't it be immediate?"

She shook her head, trying not to be bothered by his care, "If she thinks Tuesday is fine, then Tuesday is fine."

The tea kettle's whistle made them both jump.

He brought in the tea and they settled on the sofa. Together they stared at the tendrils of steam floating off the amber liquid. A strange calm had come over her. She recognized it was in reaction to the anxiety pouring off the body of the man sitting next to her. Her Charlie.

"It's just," he said. His head fell to his hands, hiding his eyes, "I can't -"

"Don't," she said, brushing a hand across his forearm.

She saw the sob, but he kept it silent. She gripped his forearm tighter and he placed a wet hand on top of hers.

"I've lost nearly everything, Elsie," he said, "I can't lose you, too."

"You don't -"

"And, good god, how selfish is this? How selfish am I being?!" He pulled his hand away, wiping both eyes.

She leaned into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, forcing him to stop pulling away from her. She rubbed his arm, her heart in her throat.

"You're not being selfish," she whispered, "Caring isn't selfish, far from it in fact."

She had felt the chuckle in her voice and wasn't sure how she had managed it. Letting her pull him to her, she linked her arms around his middle and set her head against his chest. He wrapped his body tight around hers. She sighed. This was what she had needed. They sat together, arms around each other, their tea growing cold

The ticking of the clock marked the only passage of time. Her body relaxed into his. Her eyes closed naturally. She didn't know how long they sat there, and was surprised to find he was still awake when he mumbled into her hair, "rest."

She smiled into the cotton of his sweater. Intuitive. He knew how tired she was. Her lack of sleep the night before had cost her. Permission granted, she let herself drift into a hazy sleep.

* * *

 _A/N: And where do they go from there...? Whatcha thinkin' out there? Leave a review and tell me about it!_


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